Chances Fading Now
by smc-27
Summary: They were just a boy and a girl. Lucas and Peyton. And it felt like enough. He wasn't sure who kissed who. They kind of met in the middle. Just a gentle kiss; just lip to lip and nothing more. He tried to pinpoint the moment he fell in love with her.
1. Childlike Wild

**A/N:** Started writing this yesterday, and it was meant to be a oneshot...Well, now it's edging on about 15,000 words, and I'm not done yet, so it's a chapter story. Won't be more than 8 chapters-ish.

Basically, I'm re-writing the show. Should be pretty self-explanatory.

**----**

They'd known each other forever. Really, as long as either of them could remember.

It started when they were just little kids. Their back yards faced one another, and her parents knew his mom and uncle, and there were countless photos of them doing all those cute little kid things together. He was two, and carefully holding the newborn little girl in his arms. She was three, and holding his hand as they walked down the sidewalk. They were seven and five, bundled up in scarves and mittens and sipping hot chocolate on the porch swing at the Roe home.

There was a little hole in the wooden fence that separated their yards; a knot that had somehow come loose, leaving the silver-dollar sized 'peephole' as they called it. Lucas would be laying on the grass near the fence, waiting for her to peer through, and he'd smile every time he saw that one green eye blinking at him through the fence.

She was five when he walked out one hot summer afternoon and saw a piece of paper rolled up and wedged in the peephole. He pulled it out, and in one of her childish drawings, he saw two figures. A boy with yellow hair, and a girl with yellow hair. Their hands were joined in the middle, and in the bottom left hand corner, she'd written just her name. He smiled and took that drawing inside, and his mom just chuckled and posted it on the fridge.

It stayed there. Hadn't moved since that day. The page yellowed and the colour faded, but that drawing wasn't taken down off the refrigerator door.

They grew tired with the peephole, and when Lucas was eight and Peyton was six, they jimmied one of the fence boards in the corner loose so that it swung back and forth. They always thought it was so sneaky, but Larry watched from his kitchen window, and he could only shake his head at the two of them. Kids will be kids, he thought.

Peyton would slip through the fence and lay with Lucas on the grass, her wild hair falling around her face, and her little denim shorts hitting her mid-thigh. Lucas would wear his basketball shorts and Michael Jordan tee shirt. They'd point out shapes in the clouds, but they were always silly things. Not just a dog or a car or a train. They'd pinpoint a specific breed, or a specific car, and they'd give the train a destination. She'd giggle when she said a cloud looked like Rocket, and the dog would come over and jump and play with the two kids. They both cried when that dog died.

Age was never an issue. Peyton was his friend, and Lucas didn't care that she was two years younger than him. He helped teach her to read, and she'd count his baskets at the River Court while Keith read the newspaper.

They were friends. Best friends. They'd camp out in either of their back yards, and they'd always end up on the grass outside their little two person tent. She'd slip into his sleeping bag, and they'd count the stars until they fell asleep.

"Luke," Peyton whispered one night, laying in her backyard. She was seven and Lucas was nine, and even though he probably should have been hanging out with the guys in his grade, he'd always make time for Peyton.

"Yeah?"

"We're best friends, right?" she asked innocently.

"Yeah," he answered, looking over at her.

"OK," she said simply. "Forever?"

"Forever," he echoed.

He held out his pinky, and she smiled as she looped her finger together with his. They each kissed the back of their thumbs - a _real_ pinky promise, they'd always said - and they laughed together before looking back to the sky.

She fell asleep soon after, and he pulled the sleeping bag up to their chins. She was holding his hand between them, and he found himself frowning when she pulled it away.

They always woke with their backs to each other, and when Anna or Larry came to get Peyton, or Karen went to get Lucas, they'd just smile and chuckle at the two kids.

Childhood was a beautiful thing.

Peyton's was cut a bit short.

Tuesday was always Karen's day to pick the kids up from school. She had an extra staff member stay on Tuesday and Thursday, and Anna got the kids on Monday and Friday. Larry was in charge of Wednesday. Keith covered any changes. It was a system that had been in place since Peyton started school, and it worked well.

Usually.

Lucas had cut his hand on a rusty nail that was for some reason on the playground, and in a panic, Karen had rushed him to the emergency room to have it tended to and given his tetanus shot - which she just hadn't gotten around to taking him for.

She'd called Anna and regrettably said she wouldn't be able to get Peyton from school, and Anna insisted it was no problem. Keith was out of town or he would have helped out, but Anna could make it work.

Sirens were a rarity in that small town; emergencies didn't happen often, and when they did, everyone held their breath, waiting to hear who was the subject - no one liked the word 'victim'.

When Karen and Lucas were leaving the hospital and Anna Sawyer was rolled in on a stretcher, it was as though the world stopped.

Karen and Lucas rushed to the car, her clutching his hand the entire time, and rushed towards home. They passed the scene of the accident, and Karen bit back a sob when she saw the two mangled vehicles. Her best friend was in the hospital, and she had no idea what to do.

She parked on the street just as Larry was running out of the house, and Lucas watched as he took Peyton in his arms, holding her tightly before setting her in his truck.

Lucas watched his best friend, terror in her eyes, as he felt tears forming in his own.

Anna died four hours after the accident. Surgery would have been futile, and so Larry and his daughter sat at that bedside and simply waited for the woman's heart to stop. Karen couldn't imagine anything more horrific.

Larry was a mess. A stoic, angry mess. He could barely take care of himself, let alone his daughter, and while he couldn't say the words, Karen knew he was thankful for her help and support. They all knew Karen was hurting, too, but she wouldn't let that little girl go unattended for.

Peyton wouldn't talk to anyone. Not one word. Lucas didn't know what to do.

He slipped through the fence after the funeral. It was late, but Karen was busy helping Larry, and Keith was talking to a few mourners at the Roe home, and Lucas needed to see Peyton.

He walked past Larry, and the man offered only a small, single nod, as though that were his approval that Lucas trudge up the stairs to Peyton's bedroom. As though he knew that Lucas could help.

She was in her pajamas on her bed, clutching a worn brown teddy bear. It was quiet, and she had only her bedside lamp shining. Her hair was still perfectly braided like Karen had done for her that morning when both girls had tears in their eyes.

Lucas was just 10. He didn't know what to say, or what to do, or how to act, or how to treat Peyton.

So he just lay down on her bed next to her on his back, his hands clasped over his stomach. It was the same way she was laying. He thought she shouldn't have to lay like that alone.

They lay like that for a while. Just him and her in her room in their pajamas. Breathing in silence, breaths matching. She didn't move. She didn't put down her teddy bear. He used to make fun of her for still sleeping with it, but they both knew he was only joking.

"How's your hand?" she asked in a small voice, hoarse from crying.

"What?"

"Your hand. It looked gross," she said, looking over at him.

"It was. I had to have a needle. Six stitches," he explained.

"Ew."

"I know."

He turned his head and their eyes met, and he bit the inside of his lip to keep from crying. Her eyes were tired and red-rimmed, and her cheeks were puffy. He hated it. He really did.

"I'm glad you're OK," she said as a tear fell from her eye.

He didn't know what to say, and so when she reached for her bed sheet to wipe her face and rolled onto her side so she was looking at him, he just nodded. He took her hand in his and clasped their fingers together, and he watched the ceiling as she watched him.

"Hey, Peyt?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"OK," she said softly.

They both cried then, quiet tears that stained her pillows. They didn't care. They just lay there together with their hands joined and their hearts breaking.

When Karen climbed the stairs to take her boy home, she just couldn't bring herself to pull the kids apart. There they were, sleeping on that big double bed, and she knew somehow that they were helping each other through it, just by doing that very thing. She covered them over with a blanket and tugged the door mostly closed, and she told Larry to just send Lucas home in the morning.

Lucas stepped through the door about noon the next day, and Keith and Karen sat at the kitchen table, mugs of coffee cradled in their hands. They looked at Lucas, standing there in his plaid flannel pajamas, and he tried to smile. He just couldn't do it.

Karen was almost surprised when he walked towards her and wrapped his arms around her. Keith bowed his head, and Karen teared up a little as she held her son.

"It's not fair," he said. Karen ran her hand over his hair and pulled out the chair between she and Keith for Lucas to sit.

"I know, sweetie."

"She's just a kid," he said.

He was almost crying again, but there was a stern anger in his voice. Keith placed his hand on Lucas' shoulder, but didn't say a word. Both adults wanted to remind him that he was just a kid, too, but they knew what he was saying. He was just a little older than her, and she'd looked so fragile since the accident. And he looked out for her. She was his best friend.

And she really was just a kid.

"She'll be OK," Karen insisted. "We'll make sure of it."

He just nodded his head, and Karen stood, kissed his hair, and said she'd make him some cocoa.

When Peyton stepped through the kitchen door just minutes later, Karen gave a sympathetic smile and gestured for the girl to take a seat. Karen doled out extra marshmallows, all of them laughing when Keith insisted he needed some in his coffee and let Peyton drop them into his mug, and they spent their afternoon talking about anything but the person they'd all just lost.

Peyton was smiling for the first time in days. Lucas smiled, too.

----

"Lucas Scott, I hate you!"

"No, you don't!" he shouted back.

She let out a frustrated huff and stomped her foot on the ground. She threw her tube of Bonne Bell lip balm at him, making him cower away from him and hold his arms in front of his face in his defense. Just because she knew it'd make him angry, she picked up the book he'd been reading, pulled the bookmark from between the pages, and tucked the slim piece of paper into the back pocket of her jeans. She threw the book back onto his bed with force and it bounced a little bit. Lucas glared at her, but she didn't care.

"I hate you," she repeated.

It was a stupid, silly argument. They had them often. But those stupid, silly arguments were growing in intensity.

He'd blown her off after school that day. They were supposed to go to the record store like they did every Wednesday after classes let out, but he went to play basketball with the guys instead. Normally she didn't care.

Except it was the second week in a row that he'd skipped their Wednesday tradition, and he'd canceled plans the prior Sunday afternoon, too.

And Peyton didn't like it one bit.

"You're being a bitch," he said, reaching for his book and immediately trying to search for his place.

"What?" she asked, speaking at a dangerously low tone. "What did you just say?"

"I don't see what the big deal is," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You just called me a bitch," she said, locking eyes with him.

This was when the age difference started to change them. The space between 11 and 13 was a big one. Lucas was almost in high school, and he started caring more about things like basketball and girls. Peyton was the skinny neighbour kid who still slept with her teddy bear - it was a gift from her mother, and she couldn't part with it yet.

"Don't say that word," he warned her.

"You did!"

"I'm older."

"So it's OK for you to be a jerk?" she asked. He shrugged his shoulder again and flopped down on his bed, showing no remorse for treating her like he was. "Fine. I'm leaving."

"Peyt."

"Don't!" she shouted. "I'm going to Brooke's."

She said it just to hurt him, and they both knew it. He'd expressed fears that the little brunette was taking his place as Peyton's best friend. The girls talked about things that Peyton couldn't talk about with Lucas - though there wasn't much the two blondes didn't share - and they spent every day at school together since they were in the same class.

Lucas hung out with a group of boys who played basketball and talked about girls, and one of those boys was his brother. They'd become close since starting the eighth grade. Both were on the school's basketball team, and they decided to put aside their differences, and they actually got along pretty well.

He and Peyton had been drifting apart just a little bit, and he supposed that may have been for the best. She needed friends her own age, and he needed the chance to experience all those teenaged experiences.

"Fine! Go to Brooke's," he spat angrily.

"Jealous?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.

She had one hand on her hip, and her curls were a little messy. She didn't wear makeup like the girls he went to school with, and she didn't wear clothes like those girls wore either. He kind of loved that about her.

"Does it matter?" He sat up and stared at her. "You're jealous of my friends."

"I don't care, Lucas. Hang out with whoever," she said, turning towards the door. "Maybe we're not best friends."

She left, and he felt like his heart had dropped into his stomach.

He wanted them to be best friends. He didn't want to fight with her. He didn't want her to hate him, or even say she did. He couldn't let her just leave like that and not do something about it.

When he pulled open his door and stepped onto the porch, he had every intention of sprinting to catch up with her as she walked down the sidewalk.

But there she was, sitting on the steps by his bedroom door with her legs pulled up to her chest.

"Don't call me names," she said softly.

"I'm sorry. That was...awful. I'm sorry." He sat down next to her, and he saw his bookmark sticking out of her back pocket, so he reached back and took it. She spun to look at him, wide eyed, as if to ask why his hand was anywhere near her behind. "My bookmark."

"Why did you say that?" she asked. "I just wanted to hang out."

"I know. I was a jerk," he said shamefully. "I didn't mean it."

"If you say that again, I'll..."

"I won't," he said quickly. "I promise, Peyton." She nodded her head and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Are you going to Brooke's?"

"She's not even home," she admitted, and he laughed. She smiled, and he looked over just in time to catch it. "She knows Wednesday is my day with you, even if you forget."

"I didn't forget."

"It feels like you did."

"How could I forget about my best friend?" he asked, pulling her closer.

"You tell me," she mumbled.

"I can't. Because I can't forget about you. Therefore, I can't explain, and..."

"OK!" she said with a laugh. "I get it."

"Come on," he said, standing and pulling her up by her hand. "Let's go get ice cream."

"It's not even dinner yet."

"So? I owe you," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. He was already at the bottom of the steps, and she was still standing on the porch. "You coming, or what?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically, but skipped down the steps, and when she was walking next to him, he draped his arm over her shoulder again.

And then he did something she didn't expect. Something that made her feel a little funny. A new feeling in her stomach that she kind of liked.

He kissed her temple, right there on the sidewalk.

He'd never done anything like that before, not since they were little kids and he'd kiss her cheek or her hand as a joke or part of a game.

This kiss felt a little different. When she looked up at him, he just winked at her.

He started doing it a little more often, but still not frequently.

They'd be laying on the grass in her backyard, their hands joined, just like they always used to do. She'd say something goofy or something deep or something he deemed adorable, and he'd lean over and kiss her temple.

She liked it.

She had to believe he liked it, too.


	2. Prelude to a Kiss

Peyton seemed to transform into a young woman overnight. All of a sudden, she was 14, had shining green eyes, beautiful blonde hair, legs for days, and the short skirts to show them off. She was a cheerleader and a high school freshman, and the boys seemed captivated by her.

Karen wasn't sure who was more scared of all that - Larry or Lucas.

The two men, plus Keith, were sitting in the living room of the Sawyer house, watching a basketball game they had deemed important. Karen and Peyton had just rolled their eyes and laughed. Boys will be boys, Karen said.

Peyton had told her dad she was going to a little party that night, and when she had assured him that the parents were going to be there, he said it was fine if she go as long as she was back by midnight.

When she ran down the stairs in a little denim shirt and a low cut black sweater with a tank top underneath, Lucas wasn't sure about any of it. He knew the party was at Bevin's house. He knew that even though the girl's parents were home, they were pretty relaxed and if the kids wanted to drink, they'd drink.

"Bye, dad," she said. "I'll be home later."

"Alright," Larry said, turning around to look at her. He gave her a once over, smiled, and went back to the game.

She headed to the front door and Lucas watched from the window as she got into a car driven by one of the older girls on the squad.

"Are you sure you're OK with her going out like that?" Lucas asked skeptically. Larry and Keith shared a knowing smile, then Larry turned to the younger man.

"She's going to wear what she wants to wear," Larry explained. "It's better than those little cheerleading outfits."

Lucas wasn't sure 'better' was an appropriate word. He happened to like those outfits.

"How come you're not going to this party?" Keith asked.

"I'm watching the game," Lucas said with a shrug.

He didn't miss the look the two older men exchanged, but he didn't mention it. He'd had enough of people saying he and Peyton were together, or implying that they should be. They were just friends.

He wouldn't deny that she was gorgeous. Of course she was. But she was just Peyton to him. He'd seen her in paint-stained sweatpants with her hair in a knot and ice cream on her cheek. He knew her too well. He didn't want to date her.

He sat there for the rest of the night, barely focused on the game on the screen. Instead, he was wondering what was going on at that party. He wondered if she was drinking, or who she was hanging out with, or what silly hookups were happening. He knew he'd hear about it all when he spoke to her next, or when he got to school that Monday and everyone was talking about the weekend's party.

But he had chosen not to go, so he just went home after the game and lay on his bed with a novel in his hands.

Peyton slipped into his bedroom around 11:30 - just before she had to get home - and told him a few stories from the party. He could tell she hadn't had anything to drink, and he was happy that she could stand up to peer pressure. She said that people were asking where he was, and that she and Nathan arm wrestled and he let her win. She laughed when she said it, and Lucas had to smile.

He adored that laugh.

"You should have come, you loser," she said, swatting at his leg.

"Naw. That was a big game," he said with a shrug. "And I'm working out with Nathan tomorrow. One of us should at least be well-rested."

"Actually, he drove me home," she said. "He wasn't drinking, and he said he was going straight to his place."

"Nathan drove you home?" he asked with a squint.

He knew Nathan's reputation. The guy may have been his brother, but everyone knew he wasn't exactly just a 'nice' guy for no reason. He generally wanted something for himself. Lucas knew he'd never really treated Peyton that way, though. Lucas suspected that Nathan knew better than to treat her poorly.

"Yeah. It was just a ride, Luke. It's not like we were making out in the back seat."

She laughed again when his face went blank.

Then he realized they'd never really talked about that kind of thing. Relationships. Sure, he'd dated a few people, and Peyton had a boyfriend for a little while, but they were both really too young for anything significant.

He suddenly found himself wondering where she had her first kiss, and if she had wanted it, or if it just happened. He wondered if she wondered the same things he did.

"What?" she asked after a moment.

"I just can't see you kissing someone," he admitted.

"Gee, thanks," she scoffed.

"I just meant...I dunno. It's weird to think about."

"So don't think about it," she said simply. "And whatever. Like you and Rachel didn't make out between periods when you were dating."

"That was last year," he pointed out.

"You aren't denying it."

"It's different."

"Different how!?" she laughed.

"Because I'm me, and you're you," he said.

She really had no idea what that meant, but she saw that she only had 10 minutes to her curfew, and she stood from the bed as she shook her head. They both knew that her curfew was kind of null and void if she was just hanging out with Luke, but she had promised her dad she'd be home.

"Whatever, freak," she mumbled. "See you later. Hey, tell the guys hi for me tomorrow."

He didn't say anything - couldn't find the words - and she walked out his door.

She wanted him to say hi to the guys for her. He felt that familiar jealousy creeping in. He didn't like it, but he couldn't control it.

He didn't want to date Peyton.

But he didn't want anyone else dating her, either.

He waited a few days to ask her about it, and it ate at him the entire time. She was sitting on the River Court bleachers with Brooke while he, Nathan, Skills and Fergie played two on two. The girls would laugh, and Lucas didn't miss the way they stole the attention of the other three guys. He and Nathan won the game - as they often did when they played together against their friends - and then everyone went their separate ways.

Somewhere between the old court and their neighbourhood, Peyton tugged at the sweater he had draped over his shoulder. She was wearing just her jeans, Converse sneakers and a Dashboard Confessional shirt. She had about five of them, and he was always making fun of her for it. He just chuckled as he handed over his sweatshirt and she pulled it over her head.

"It's getting cold out," she noted.

"Tends to do that in the fall," he said sarcastically.

"Shut up." She shoved him off the sidewalk, and he glared at her when he stumbled at the curb and she laughed.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," she said.

"When'd you have your first kiss?" he asked, surprising her with both the nature of his question and how easily he spoke it.

"What!?"

"First kiss. When was it?"

"I'm not answering that!" she insisted. "God."

"Just tell me. I'll tell you mine," he said with a shrug of his shoulder.

"It was you, you dork. Remember? I was eight, and we were..."

"No." He shook his head. "Your real first kiss. Was it Jake? Tell me."

She let out a sigh and looked at him, and she could tell he was completely serious. She wasn't sure why he was so hell bent on knowing, but she couldn't keep things from him and they both knew it.

And she couldn't say she particularly cared to know who was his first kiss or when he had it.

"Yeah. It was Jake," she said softly after a moment. "Last year."

"Did he kiss you, or did you kiss him?"

"Lucas!" she hissed. "What's _with_ you? This is so weird."

"Why's it weird? Best friends should be able to talk about this," he said.

"Yeah, but...it's weird."

"Spill."

"It was...mutual," she said quietly, looking to her feet.

"OK," he said.

"_OK_?" she asked. "You just beat that out of me, and your response is _'OK'_?"

"A little dramatic, aren't you?" he teased, cowering when she punched his shoulder.

"Fine. You tell me yours," she said.

"Madison," he said. "Eighth grade."

It hit her hard that for her that was just a year prior, and for Lucas it probably seemed like ages ago. The age difference seemed non-existent most of the time, especially since they essentially had the same group of friends, but every once in a while, something would happen that would remind her. He was learning to drive and she wasn't even thinking about it, or he'd help her with her homework so she could finish quicker and they could hang out. He'd spout off the themes in _The Merchant of Venice_ like they were second nature, while she was struggling to get the hang of the iambic pentameter.

"And I kissed her. It was awesome," he said. He laughed again when she shoved him. "What!? It was!"

"Stop. I don't want to hear it," she insisted with a chuckle. "Why are we even talking about this?"

"I dunno. I was just thinking...I didn't know," he said, shrugging one shoulder. "It bugged me. I don't like us to have secrets."

"Me neither," she said softly.

He gave her one of those little kisses to the temple, and she smiled.

She had always kind of thought he was her 'real' first kiss. It stung a little that he didn't think of her as his.

"So, have you made out with anyone since Jake?" Lucas asked.

"Story time is over," she said.

She was blushing.

He was pretty sure that was a yes.

He didn't know why he was definitely jealous.

----

When Nathan asked Peyton to the Ravens' annual Christmas semi-formal, she smiled and nodded her head, and he kissed her forehead and told her he'd fill her in on the details. Freshman didn't usually get to go unless someone asked them, and she was the only one who'd been asked so far.

Nathan had always had a bit of a flirtation with her. She flirted back, but it was all pretty innocent. He'd always make sure she got home from parties safely, and he gave her a ride home from an away game one time when the bus was full and he'd driven.

Lucas had come to terms with the friendship. He didn't necessarily love the flirting, but he trusted Nathan and he trusted Peyton. And he knew Nathan wouldn't mess with Peyton. He wouldn't hurt her. Most people who knew Lucas would even dare try anything with Peyton.

But he was a little hurt. He was going to take her to the semi-formal. It would have been a 'just friends' thing, but it would have been fun. He wanted to be the one she smiled at and said 'yes' to. He wanted to be the one to pick her up and whose tie she'd straighten. It was a silly thing; anytime he was wearing a tie, she'd always reach for the knot and play with it a little until it was positioned to her satisfaction.

Brooke pleaded with him, using those big hazel eyes and her best and most convincing tone of voice, and he gave in, telling her to get a dress and he'd be happy to take her.

He thought he saw a flash of something that looked a little like jealousy in Peyton's eyes when Brooke told her the news, but he was sure he had made it up.

There probably wasn't any jealousy. There shouldn't have been. On her part or his.

When he picked Brooke up, she looked beautiful. She was wearing a brightly coloured dress with sequins that sparkled in the light, and he knew it was probably some big designer and it probably cost a fortune. Her hair was pinned up flawlessly, and her makeup was more subtle than her dress. She was a beautiful girl, there was no doubt.

But when he caught sight of Peyton as he and Brooke stepped onto the yacht the party was being held on, he suddenly found it a little hard to breathe.

Her dress was simple. Black, with a bit of a plunging halter neckline and an empire waist, and it hit her just above the knees. She wore silver shoes, and carried a little silver clutch, and her hair was down and just about the same as it was any other day.

He had to remind himself not to stare. He felt attracted to her. He'd always known she was gorgeous, but that night, he felt attracted to her. It was dangerous, so he simply held out his arm for Brooke to link hers through, and they found their table.

He watched as she laughed with her friends and danced with Nathan, and when she walked over to Lucas with a smile on her face and those green eyes shining, he could only smile back at her.

"You gonna ask me to dance, or what?" she asked, putting a hand on her hip.

"You just asked me," he told her.

"Whatever! Come on," she said, tugging his hand.

They made their way to the little dance floor, and he held her close as the slow song started. They talked about their evenings, and he told her that she looked great. He stayed away from words like _beautiful_ or _gorgeous_ or _stunning_. Those words were in a risky area that he suspected neither of them wanted to get into. She toyed with his tie, just like he'd secretly wanted her to, and told him he cleaned up nicely, too.

Nathan and Brooke sat at their table, and when Brooke looked from the dancing couple to the Scott brother on her right, he could only smirk and shake his head.

"You think those two ever hooked up?" she asked.

"I don't know. I'm thinking they will, though," he admitted. He hated to. He kind of had a thing for Peyton.

"Sorry, Nathan," Brooke said, smiling sympathetically. He shrugged one shoulder, and she rolled her eyes. She was really the only person who knew how Nathan felt about the blonde, and he was always trying to downplay it, even to her.

"What can I do? She doesn't want all this?" he asked, gesturing to himself. "There's gotta be something wrong with her."

"Clearly," Brooke laughed. She shook her head, and when he placed his hand on hers and stood, they walked to the floor and started dancing next to the other couple.

It wasn't until the after party that Lucas started getting a little worried. Peyton was on her third beer, and he'd seen her do a shot of...something...and he knew she wasn't a big drinker. At all.

He watched Vegas step a little too close to her, and he smiled to himself when she pushed the guy away with her palm on his chest. Lucas saw Nathan with his eye on her, and he smiled at that, too. He liked knowing that there was someone else looking out for her.

He started a conversation with Skills, and the two of them got to talking about the goings on in the NBA, and then when Lucas looked back to where Peyton had been standing there was someone else there, and Peyton was nowhere in sight. He quickly excused himself from his conversation, with Skills insisting he'd take a look upstairs for the girl he knew Lucas was worrying about.

Lucas found Nathan, and he said he hadn't seen Peyton in a while, and then, doing a quick scan of the room, they noticed that Vegas was nowhere around either. He told Nathan to keep an eye out, but Nathan wasn't just going to stand still. He started looking through the house, through the crowds of people, while Lucas stepped outside and looked around.

He saw her there, sitting alone on the beach with her knees pulled up to her chest like she always did, and he breathed an audible sigh of relief. Nathan came up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder, both brothers just happy that she wasn't locked away somewhere with their disgusting teammate.

Lucas stepped down the back steps of the house and onto the sand, and when he draped his jacket over her shoulders to ward off the chill, she looked up at him. He noticed her eyes were red and her cheeks were tear stained, and he set his jaw. Whoever had her crying wasn't going to get away with it.

"Hi," she managed.

He sat next to her and pulled her into his side, and when she rest her forehead on his shoulder, they each took a deep breath. She noticed that his jacket - and he, as well - smelled like the cologne she'd insisted he buy when he asked for her help choosing one.

"Why are you out here crying?"

"Don't freak out," she demanded seriously.

"That's...that doesn't help," he said, and she laughed a little.

"Vegas...he got a little...handsy," she explained quietly.

"What!?" Lucas roared. "That bastard. I swear..."

"Luke, it's...I kind of kneed him somewhere, and...I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Did he...?"

"I'm sure," she said. She started crying again a little bit, but for a different reason.

Lucas always took such good care of her. He always had. She never asked - no one ever asked him to - he just did it.

"Come on. Let's get you home," he said, taking her hand in his and standing.

She stood in front of him, and with her looking up at him through her tears, he felt something akin to...adoration. Something. Some driving force, telling him to protect this girl with everything he had. He didn't know why, or where it came from, but he felt he had to do it.

"Luke," she said softly. Her hands were on his hips, and he was very aware that they were standing far closer than they should have been. She'd had a bit too much to drink, and her tiny frame was probably buzzing quite a bit.

But the way she just said his name had the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

In that moment, he wasn't 16 and she wasn't 14. She wasn't crying, and he wasn't the sober one looking out for her. They hadn't known each other forever, and his brother didn't have a thing for her, and Lucas hadn't come with a date who wasn't her.

They were just a boy and a girl. Lucas and Peyton. And it felt like enough.

"Luke," she said again, even quieter; almost a whisper.

She moved a little closer, and his hand found her cheek. He wasn't sure who kissed who. They kind of met in the middle. Just a gentle kiss; lip to lip and nothing more. She tasted like beer and raspberry lip gloss, and he found himself thinking that was a delightful combination. His lips were soft, and she kind of liked the way his thumb slowly stroked her cheek. That kiss felt different than the other ones she'd had.

Her eyes stayed close when they pulled apart, and then when he was moving away completely, she really didn't know what to do. She just followed him off the beach and climbed into his truck, and they didn't say a word until they were parked in his driveway.

His mind had raced the entire time. He felt a little bit like he was the one taking advantage of her. She was a little drunk and a lot emotional, and he never should have kissed her or let her kiss him.

No matter how good it had felt. And it had felt pretty damn good.

They walked through the backyard to that loose board in that old wooden fence, and Peyton was biting her lip and avoiding eye contact when she handed his jacket back to him. She tucked a curl behind her ear, and when she finally looked at him, he was looking to the ground.

"Sorry," she said. It was all she could think to say.

"No," he insisted, shaking his head. "Don't. I'm...I was..."

"Confused. Spur of the moment. Moment of weakness," she said, and he let himself laugh softly. "It was nothing."

"Yeah. Nothing."

She smiled and slipped through the fence.

He was left wondering if she had lied like he had.

Nothing changed after that. Nothing was awkward, and they didn't talk about it, and they didn't kiss again.

He convinced himself that she hadn't lied, and neither had he. He was just a guy who liked kissing girls.

But every time he saw her wearing that raspberry lip gloss, he could taste it on his own lips.


	3. Someone Else's Tomorrow

Towards the end of his junior year, Lucas started spending time with a senior girl.

Haley James. The name was familiar for a few reasons. One, she was previously the smartest girl in school, and when she returned she took that title again.

And two, she had taken the summer and the first semester of her senior year off so she could tour the world as a pop singer.

She was beautiful, and everyone knew it. Long silken hair that always seemed perfectly in place, stunningly simple makeup, petite little body and sweet smile. She was just as nice as she was gorgeous and immensely talented, and people were drawn to her.

Lucas was drawn to her.

And she was drawn to him, too.

Peyton was on the quad one day, finishing up a little school work as she sipped from a can of Diet Coke, and she saw Lucas walking with the girl who seemed to suddenly be a permanent fixture at his side. Peyton kind of thought he'd come sit with her.

He didn't even wave. He saw her sitting there, and their eyes locked, but he didn't smile or wave or acknowledge her at all. He just walked with Haley to a vacant table and they sat down, laughing at something or another.

"OK, OK. I'll let you use me to make him jealous."

"Hi Nathan," Peyton said, laughing as he sat down across from her.

"I'm serious. Time and place, baby, and I'm there," he said with a smirk.

"I don't need to make him jealous. He's got a girlfriend. Whatever."

"Don't believe you," Nathan said seriously. "You really think people believe that you two are just friends?"

"He has a girlfriend!" she repeated. She dropped her pencil in the spine of her book and looked up at him. "And if he didn't, it wouldn't matter. We _are_ just friends."

"So you never kissed? Not once?" Nathan asked skeptically.

"No." It was a lie, but she knew he wouldn't know that.

"Wow. Weird. I totally thought you guys would have done it," he said, laughing when her jaw dropped.

"Nathan!" He shrugged his shoulders and she shook her head. "I'm 15."

"Not yet," he pointed out, knowing her birthday wasn't for another month or so. "And what does age have to do with it?"

He was smirking like she'd just let him in on some big secret. She kind of had. She was a virgin. She'd hardly even had one boyfriend, and he'd moved away. She'd only kissed one other boy, and that was just something stupid at a party. She wanted to wait until she was in a real relationship.

"Whatever," she mumbled.

"Peyton," he said softly, "don't be shy."

"I'm...this is a weird conversation. You're my best friend's brother, and..."

"And we're talking about how you've never..."

"Nathan," she hissed. "Stop it."

"Come on. Come out with me Friday night," he requested. She looked at him incredulously, and he actually let out a hearty laugh. It had sounded like he just wanted to sleep with her. "Just for pizza or something. We'll catch a movie."

"That sounds like a date."

"It doesn't have to be. Just consider it a night of not wondering what Lucas and Haley are doing," he said, smirking when she laughed.

"Fine. Friday. Pick me up at 7:00," she said.

"Do I have to leave now?" he asked. She rolled her eyes again, but she was smiling.

"No. I guess not."

He saw her glance over at Lucas and Haley, and when he looked, he saw that Lucas had his hand intertwined with the girl's. Peyton's face fell just a little bit, and Nathan knew that even if she couldn't admit it, she was definitely not OK with that relationship.

He kind of didn't care. He wanted her, and he'd been wanting her, and he saw this as his in; his way to prove that he could be to her what Lucas couldn't.

So he leaned across the table and placed his palm on her cheek, and he kissed her when he knew Lucas was watching.

She kind of liked it. It was unexpected and different, and Nathan was kind of a good kisser.

"Why...What are you doing?" she asked softly. She brought her fingertips to her lips, and he smiled at her.

"First of all, he was looking," he said. "Second of all, I've always wanted to kiss you."

She didn't know what to say, and when he stood from his place and walked behind her, she took a deep breath.

"Watch me walk away," he said softly. "That'll kill him."

He kissed her cheek, and she did watch him walk away, but it was more due to confusion than it was because he'd told her to. He'd _always_ wanted to kiss her? How had she not known that? Why had she let him do that? Why had she agreed to go out with him on Friday?

Lucas was going to freak out.

One more glance over at him, wrapped up in his new girl, and she stopped caring.

She was getting ready for her date on Friday night. _Date_. It still felt weird to call it that. She and Nathan had hung out one on one a few times, but it was always just friendship. They'd meet for coffee, or he'd be at the River Court when she was walking by. It was never a _date_.

She'd just zipped her jeans when she heard someone coming up the stairs. She knew, somehow, that it was Lucas. It was 6:30, and she'd told him she was going out with Nathan. He hadn't looked impressed, but then Haley bounded over and looped her arm through his, and Peyton didn't really get to hear his opinion.

"Sorry," he said. "I'll wait downstairs until you're dressed."

She raised her eyebrow at him, then looked down at her black tank top and dark jeans, and she put her hands on her hips.

"I am dressed."

"Oh." He eyed her again and narrowed his eyes. "Thought you might wear a shirt."

It was everything she could to not to scream at him.

"What about you?" she asked. "Didn't recognize you without her attached to your hip."

"She's coming over later. We're going to read Hamlet."

"Don't get too crazy, now," she said, turning back to her mirror to finish styling her hair.

He lay back on her bed and smiled to himself. He kind of loved this about them. They'd dance around the subject a little and they'd hurl harmless insults, but he wouldn't just tell her that he hated that she was going out with Nathan, and she wouldn't just tell him that she didn't like Haley.

"What are you two doing anyway?" he asked. He watched her apply that raspberry lip gloss, and he briefly let himself think that he didn't want anyone else to know how that tasted.

"Dinner, movie, make out, sex," she joked, glaring at him in the mirror. "The usual."

"You think that's funny?" he asked, sitting up on her bed. "Don't...That's not funny."

"Hypocrite."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't even _try_ to tell me you aren't sleeping with her," she said, shaking her head. "It's none of my business, really, but...Just don't."

"It's different!" he shouted.

"Right. Because you're you, and I'm me," she said bitterly, recalling that conversation from months earlier. "Whatever, Luke."

"You're too young," he insisted. "It's not right."

"You can't tell me that!"

"Yes, I can."

"You're not my dad," she said, finally turning to face him. "And I wasn't going to have sex with Nathan anyway. I can't even believe we're talking about this."

"If you can't talk about it, then you definitely shouldn't be doing it," he said, shaking his head at her.

"I can talk about it. I'm not talking about it with _you_," she insisted. "You don't - can't - know everything about me anymore, OK?"

"Why not!?"

"Because you have a girlfriend. And she's not me. So...No. You don't get to know everything."

"Like what?" he asked. "Are you seriously thinking of sleeping with him?"

"You aren't listening to me!" she shouted. "This is stupid. I...It's really hard to remember why we're friends right now."

"Because we are."

"What?"

"We are. There are things in the world that you just don't question. This friendship is one of them. It's just there, and it's not changing," he explained.

"Yes it is," she whispered. "It is changing."

"Because you're letting it."

"What?" she asked, glaring at him. "You're blaming me?"

"You won't make an effort to get to know Haley," he said seriously, standing from the bed.

"She doesn't like me!"

"She doesn't know you," he reminded her.

Her chin trembled just slightly, and she looked away from him. She was thinking that maybe he didn't know her either. But she didn't dare say it.

"He's gonna be here soon," she said.

"Peyton..."

"What?" she asked, shrugging her shoulder. "I...I can't do this right now."

He had no idea what made him to it, but he walked towards her and grabbed her upper arms, and he kissed her.

It was stupid, and he didn't think it through at all, but he kissed her. He pressed his lips to hers, and he tasted that lip gloss, and she relaxed a little bit and kissed him back, just for a split second.

But he had a girlfriend, and she had a...Nathan. A date. They weren't supposed to be kissing.

When he pulled away, they didn't even make eye contact. He just walked out of her bedroom, and she let a tear fall from her eye.

She didn't know what love felt like. She'd never been in it before.

She just had a crazy and very terrifying feeling that the only person she'd ever feel it for had just walked out of her bedroom.

----

They worked a little harder after that night in her bedroom. He spent a little more time with her, and she - though she and Nathan were actually a couple - took time to talk to him about things.

They talked about everything under the sun.

Everything under the sun that wasn't the kiss. The kisses. Apparently they could touch all the bases except for their own feelings for one another. But it seemed they were both OK with it, so neither pushed the issue. It was good that way. Better.

Peyton made an effort with Haley, and Haley made an effort with her, but that 'friendship', if it could be called one, was tense. Haley seemed a little jealous that Peyton was Lucas' best friend and knew so much about him. Peyton, though she wasn't jealous at all now that she had Nathan, didn't love Haley. There was something about the girl that she couldn't put her finger on.

But Lucas seemed happy, so she let him do his thing, and she did hers.

"Hey!" Haley said, sliding into the seat on the quad next to Lucas. "So I'm playing a show with Matt Nathanson in Wilmington!"

"Haley, that's amazing!" Lucas said. He leaned over and kissed her smile quickly, and she got a little giddy. He had to laugh.

"I'm so excited. I love him. And I miss playing, you know? I...I don't know, Luke. I think this'll be amazing. The album's almost done, and...It's just good buzz. My manager is stoked," she explained.

"So when's this show?" he asked.

"May 12," she said. His face fell, and she looked at him worriedly. "What?"

"That's Peyton's birthday," he explained. "I can't...It's her birthday."

"So...you're going to blow off my show?"

"What? No. I'm not blowing it off, I just...She's my best friend, Haley," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"So bring her," she said simply. "I can get you passes. Nathan, too."

"I'll talk to her," he said, nodding his head. She kissed his cheek and got up, saying something about a test to study for.

He knew this wasn't going to work. Peyton wasn't crazy about Matt Nathanson. She was less crazy about Haley's music.

Either way, he was going to end up with a girl mad at him. He really didn't know what to do.

When he chose to go to Haley's show instead of hanging out with Peyton on her birthday, the disappointed look on the blonde's face told him perhaps he'd made the wrong decision.

He apologized, and she insisted that she understood, but she had her arms cross and she wouldn't make eye contact. He knew she was mad, but he didn't know what to do or say, so he just left and hoped for the best. He wondered how good 'the best' would be after this.

The entire drive to Wilmington, he felt awful. He felt guilty, and he felt like he should have been with her, sitting on her bedroom floor and listening to whatever vintage vinyl he'd gotten her that year. It was their tradition. He gave her the same gift every year, and they'd eat store bought cake and listen to those records.

He wondered what Nathan had planned.

But he stood in the crowd in a packed club, and he listened to his girlfriend sing a few songs - one of which was about him - and he smiled, and he hugged her afterward, and he pretended that there wasn't a piece of his heart (of an indeterminable size) that was with another girl entirely.

He and Peyton had a lot of long conversations after that, and when she explained that Nathan had taken her to her favourite place at Wrightsville for dinner, and given her a beautiful silver necklace, that her birthday turned out not so bad. She told him she missed him, but that she couldn't blame him for going to see his girlfriend perform.

They hugged it out and listened to some of the music they loved that neither Haley nor Nathan did, and he brought her that favourite chocolate cake, and all was forgiven.

If anything, they were closer. The two couples started doing things together. Peyton and Haley could make small talk about music and art while the boys played ball at the River Court.

It was good. It felt right. It felt pretty normal. They were too naive to know that it wasn't.

----

It was the middle of the summer when Haley's album came out.

It was only a few days later when she told Lucas she couldn't be with him and go on tour.

The only good thing about it, he thought, was that they hadn't exchanged I love you's. He didn't feel it, and he assumed she didn't either. He didn't like that they wouldn't get to explore that particular emotion, but he just kissed her one last time, told her to go do the thing she loved, and to give him a call if she was ever in town.

When he went to talk to Peyton, she was laying on the grass in her back yard in her bikini.

With Nathan laying next to her in just a pair of board shorts.

They were laughing and Nathan was tickling her sides, and she squealed and told him to stop. Lucas watched as she smiled and threatened to withhold kisses, and Nathan relented immediately. She leaned over and kissed her boyfriend, and when Nathan rolled on top of her, Lucas slipped back through the fence unnoticed.

She was happy. He didn't want to bring her down. He could deal with his breakup on his own.

He didn't want to, though. He wanted Peyton's help. He wanted to sit with her and have her search through her albums for the perfect song that she thought explained how he was feeling. She always did that. She was always right, too.

And he kind of didn't want her kissing Nathan at all anymore.

But that wasn't his decision to make, and he didn't want Peyton joining in his misery. She was happy with Nathan. She was being treated surprisingly well, given who she was dating. He loved seeing that smile on her face. He loved seeing that sparkle in her eye.

He was just jealous again that he didn't get to be the one to put it there.

He tried to pinpoint the moment he fell in love with his best friend.

He lay on his bed for a while, thinking back on his relationship with Haley. He had liked her. A lot. He still kind of liked her a lot. He just had to have known there was something missing. He didn't realize it until the very end. He supposed, at 17, that was OK. That was what most relationships were in high school. Right?

He wondered if Peyton and Nathan's was the same.

She strolled through his door later that afternoon in just a little pair of denim shorts and one of Nathan's white tee shirts, tied in a knot at the back so it bared her midriff. He could see her black bikini top through the fabric, and he kind of adored how messy her hair was, pulled up and held in place with restaurant chopsticks.

"Hey, loser," she said, flopping next to him on the bed. "What's up?"

"We broke up."

Her jaw dropped. He didn't need to say anything more, and she was turning on her side and looking at him with those eyes. All he could see was worry there. He loved that.

"I'm sorry, Luke," she said sincerely. "Are you OK?"

"Actually, yeah," he said, as though he realized just how crazy it was. "Just wasn't meant to be."

"Still sucks," she whispered, almost to herself. "Come on. We're going...somewhere."

"Where?" he asked, looking at her like she was insane.

"Anywhere that isn't your bedroom. Or my bedroom."

She stood from the bed and grabbed his hand, and he smiled as he let her pull him from his bed and out of the room. She tossed him his car keys that he hadn't seen her swipe from his dresser, and he unlocked the door for her.

They just started driving. They did a lap around their town, and then they drove straight out of it. She kicked off her flip flops and put her feet up on the dash, and she toyed with the radio almost non stop, and they ended up at a beach somewhere more than an hour north of their town.

They stepped out of his truck and, and he almost immediately pulled off his tee shirt as they started walking on the sand. They were quiet for a while. Peyton knew that Lucas wouldn't talk until he was ready. Even so, she kind of got the feeling that there was nothing really to talk about. He'd said he was fine, and she believed him. He wouldn't lie to her - he had no reason to and he knew she'd kill him if he did.

And all he was thinking was how he was going to get through the rest of the summer and the rest of his senior year when he suddenly had these feelings for this girl. His best friend. His brother's girlfriend.

He seriously thought of transferring to a different school.

"I might love Nathan," she said out of nowhere.

Those four words hurt him more than the entire speech Haley had given him outlining why she thought they should break up.

"No, you don't."

"What?" she asked haughtily, stopping in her tracks. "How do you know?"

"Because...if you loved him, there wouldn't he a _might_ in that statement," he said confidently. As confidently as he could. Maybe he was just hoping it. "You'd just know."

"Have you ever been in love?" she asked. She looked at him, knowing that she'd be able to tell if he was telling the truth or not.

"Yes."

She didn't ask who or when.

She had a feeling in her heart that she already knew the answer.


	4. At Least You'll Know

The start of the school year brought change.

Brooke moved away, and Peyton cried when she lost that friend. They still talked or emailed every day, but it wasn't the same. Lucas said he'd fill the gap, but Peyton told him that he couldn't shop for underwear with her or teach her new cheers. He couldn't argue.

Lucas and Nathan started their senior year, talking of college and scouts and scholarships, and Peyton was merely trying to grasp english lit and math. She hadn't put much thought into college at all.

And she asked herself - though she didn't find an answer - which Scott boy she would follow if it came down to a choice between the two. It was a silly scenario that she thought up one night listening to an old Carole King record. If she were forced to choose between Lucas or Nathan, what would she do?

She stopped thinking about it when it got too hard.

Between Nathan and Lucas, Peyton's time was spent almost predominantly with a Scott. Or both Scotts. Larry was away more and more now that she was old enough to take care of herself, and Lucas, Keith, and Karen promised to look out for the girl. No one mentioned that he didn't say anything to Nathan about it.

Lucas got the feeling that part of taking care of Peyton, as far as Larry was concerned, included keeping an eye on Nathan. Lucas didn't mention that to Peyton. He knew it'd only cause fireworks.

But then, sometime in October, Lucas walked into her bedroom and she was laying on her side, on her bed, with that tattered teddy bear in her arms and tears in her eyes.

And he didn't know whether to be angry or devastated that the girl he'd convinced himself had always been his was crying over something. It didn't matter what.

"Peyton," he said softly, sitting next to her and brushing the hair from her face.

"Hi," she just barely whispered

"What's going on?"

She hiccuped, but it was a little bit like a sob, and he wondered how long she'd been laying there like that.

"I...I don't want to sleep with Nathan."

"What?" His voice was quiet, since he felt such a huge relief.

"He's my boyfriend, and I should want to, but...I'm...I don't want to," she admitted.

"OK," he said softly. He didn't know what other words to use.

"I don't love him," she said. She said it like it was something she just realized. Like she really thought she did, but it took the thought of sleeping with Nathan to realize that it wasn't true.

He didn't know until that moment that it was possible for someone's heart to break and still beat faster at the same time. He didn't want her to be going through it all, but if she didn't love Nathan, maybe someday she could love him.

But she was still only 15. 15, and she was in a very serious relationship that still wasn't serious enough for her to take that next step. She wasn't ready, and he was so proud of her for knowing that. He didn't care about that as far as himself or his own agenda was concerned. He didn't have an agenda. He just wanted her to be happy. If she had thought that was with Nathan, he'd step back like he'd been doing for months, and let her be. If not, he'd be the one next to her as she dealt with it all.

"I think we're breaking up," she said.

"Do you want to?"

"I don't know. I think so," she said softly. "I feel stupid."

"He didn't...pressure you, or..."

"No," she answered quickly. "No. It wasn't...It's not like that."

"OK," he whispered. He tried to smile, but he wasn't sure if she'd want him to.

He sat there with her for a bit in quiet, just running his hand over her hair and letting those quiet tears slip from her eyes. He wanted to tell her to stop crying, that it'd all be OK. He knew she wasn't the kind to believe those words right away, so she probably wouldn't want to hear them right away either.

"I'm sorry," she said after a while.

"Don't apologize," he said, shaking his head. "You don't have to say sorry to me."

"Yes I do," she insisted. She rolled onto her back and locked eyes with him, and she wove their fingers together. "I guess...I always thought it'd be you." He tried to look away, but she placed her hand over his wrist, and he was lost. "You were my first kiss, and my best kiss, and...I always thought it'd be you."

He hadn't realized until that moment that he'd wanted to be her first, too. That was why he'd been so angry with her when she first started dating Nathan. He didn't want anyone else to have her that way. He knew it wasn't really fair, since he'd been with someone else, but it was true. To hear those words from her made him feel absolutely...incredible.

"I don't...I don't know what to say."

"Can you just...Can you just lay down and hold my hand like you used to?" she asked in a small voice. He gave her a lopsided smile. "We haven't done that in a long time."

He didn't say anything. She just moved over and he took his place beside her. Their hands were joined between them, fingers laced together like they always used to do. It was so innocent and so nostalgic, but it suddenly felt like a lot more than that, too.

He kissed her temple, and she took a deep breath.

She wondered how that kiss felt so much better than any kiss Nathan ever gave her.

"Hey, Peyt?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"OK," she said softly.

He wasn't sure she'd remember that very same exchange from all those years ago. He'd found her the same way, crying and broken, and he didn't know what to say then, either. I'm sorry seemed to be just as fitting then as it did now.

And she realized that Lucas always apologized for the things that were out of his control. She never felt like he was just saying the words to fill the silence, either. She thought that maybe he was apologizing for not being able to give her that part of himself.

But since even she didn't know she'd been kind of saving herself for him, he really had nothing to be sorry for.

She moved a little closer to him and let go of his hand, and he opened his arm to her. She rest her head on his chest and he held her close, and then when her hand came to rest on his stomach, he intertwined their fingers again.

They'd never lay like that before.

----

Nathan and Peyton didn't break up until a few weeks after that day with Lucas in her bedroom. Lucas wasn't sure what she was hanging onto, but it wasn't really his place to judge. It was her life and her heart, and as much as he wanted a place in both of those things, he knew he couldn't force it.

Nathan went to him for advice, and Lucas didn't know what to say. Nathan insisted he was in love with the girl, and that he couldn't give up, and Lucas just nodded his head and said he understood. He did. He couldn't give her up, either. But Nathan stood back and let her do her thing. He didn't chase her or insist they were meant to be together. Lucas thought that probably showed that his brother really did love her.

When Nathan got into Duke, Peyton was the first person outside of his family that he told. She'd squealed excitedly and jumped into his arms. She told him she was proud of him. That was all he'd wanted to hear. He told her he loved her. He had his arms around her on the middle of the quad at school. He'd never said the words before, but he looked her right in the eye and told her that he was in love with her. She closed her eyes and smiled weakly and just whispered his name.

Lucas could have sworn he saw Nathan's heart break when she walked away.

Even though she was single, Lucas didn't know how to confront her about the feelings he had. She was still confused and getting over Nathan, and she had told him she didn't want to be in a relationship for a while. She said she wanted to be by herself and with her friends, and that she was done with boys for a bit while she 'figured out who she was'. If he didn't want to date her, he would have been more proud of her for all that.

The boys won the state championship. Between Lucas, Nathan and Skills, they dominated from the tip off, and the other team hardly had a chance. Nathan was named MVP of the game after scoring 28 points.

But as soon as the final buzzer sounded, it was Lucas Peyton was running towards.

She thought that alone might answer her question of who she'd follow if she had to.

And then Lucas got into Yale. It was a joint athletic/academic scholarship, and he was happy. He wanted to go to Connecticut and get away from home for a bit. Find out who he was. Find his place in the world and learn at one of the country's best schools and play ball.

And maybe he needed to fall out of love with that girl.

She didn't make it easy. She cried when he told her. They both knew it was a mixture of pride and sadness that he'd be leaving, but neither of them mentioned any of that. He just wiped her tears and asked her if she was happy, and she nodded her head.

The school year was nearly over, and both Lucas and Nathan were getting ready to leave in the middle of August, and it hit Peyton that her life was changing in a big way. She'd seen Lucas Scott every day of her life, essentially since she was born and definitely since she could remember. And now he was leaving. Moving to another state and moving on with his life and leaving her behind.

She snuck into his bedroom one night and crawled beneath the sheets with him. She was wearing one of his tee shirts and just a pair of her own sleep shorts, and her hair was a mess of curls that she couldn't care to tame.

"Luke," she whispered. "Lucas."

He didn't stir, so she woke him in a way he'd always hated. She tugged on his earlobe, and he swatted her hand and opened his eyes.

"What?"

"Wake up," she pleaded.

"Why?" he asked. He turned and looked at the clock and saw that it read 2:48. "You OK?"

She smiled. He was half asleep and he was still looking out for her.

"I'm scared," she admitted, laying down next to him. "I don't want you to leave."

"It's barely June. I'm not leaving for months," he said. He turned on his side and looked at her, and he reached out and took her hand.

"But you're _leaving_," she said.

There was fear and vulnerability in her voice that he recognized immediately. He didn't want to love it, but he did. Truthfully, he hated the thought of leaving her, too. He knew he had to, and he knew it was for the best, but he didn't necessarily want to do it.

"It'll be OK. We'll visit," he insisted, pulling her into his side. "Nothing'll change."

"Yes it will," she whispered.

"Just go to sleep," he said softly, brushing a kiss to her temple.

She knew what that meant. He couldn't promise that nothing would change. He wouldn't say something as serious as a promise if he knew he couldn't keep it. She didn't want anything to change. She wished they were the same age. She wished he'd just stay.

"Hey, Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Her voice was small, and he knew she meant it in a platonic way, but he still felt his heart fill with all sorts of wonderful things upon hearing those three words.

"I love you, too, Peyton," he said back.

She sighed a little and moved closer to him, and that was how she woke up the next day. Curled right up into his side with her head on his chest and her leg draped over his.

She liked it. A lot.

He held her tightly, like he didn't want her to move away from him, and his heart beat against her cheek. His chin was resting against her head, and each time he'd stir, he'd pull her a little closer, just to make suer he was still holding her just as tightly as before.

She felt safe. She felt comfortable.

She felt loved. In the real way. The big way. The way she'd always wanted to feel it.

She wondered if it had been there all along.

So she kissed him.

He was still asleep, but she wanted to kiss him. She kind of felt like she had to. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his, and he let out a surprised sound. He opened his eyes, unsure whether or not it was really happening, and when he realized that it was, he just closed his eyes and kissed her back.

She pulled away a little bit, and he could tell she was about to speak, but he didn't want to hear her say that it was a mistake. He kissed her again before she could say a word.

And this kiss was different from the other ones they'd had. The night of the semi-formal, when he kissed her before her first date with Nathan; those were just lip on lip and nothing more intense than that. This time, his tongue traced the seam of her lips. This time, his hand was in her hair and she was pressed against him. They were in his bed, and she was very aware that this was now topping her list of best kisses ever.

She realized quickly that kissing him like that wouldn't make him stay. He'd still be leaving at the end of the summer, and she'd still be staying in the little town. Everything was changing, and she didn't want them to start a relationship they'd have to end. One kiss didn't mean a relationship, but she kind of felt like it would with them.

"Lucas," she said once he was kissing her neck.

He stopped immediately, as though her just saying his name pulled him back to reality. He hated reality. He liked kissing her.

"Sorry," he breathed out.

"I started it," she said, laughing softly.

"Why?"

"Why'd you kiss back?" she asked. It was a dangerous question, but she wanted to know the answer. Desperately. She wanted to hear him say that he loved her in that big way.

"Because...Because you're you and I'm me," he explained.

She didn't know what to say to that. She finally understood it. He wanted her to himself, and she could tell.

But he was the one leaving, and she was going to be left behind. He'd meet beautiful girls his own age, and she'd be studying for the SATs and cheerleading. He'd be playing ball and going to parties and studying things like the philosophical themes in all those books he was always reading, and she'd be in Tree Hill in her bedroom, listening to angsty music and just starting to think about school.

Neither of them said a word when she got up and walked out the door.

He knew he was torturing them both by saying things like that. He wondered if they'd ever get a real shot.

----

Just a couple weeks before he was moving away, there was a 'bon voyage' party for the seniors at the Scott beach house, and almost everyone was invited. Peyton drove - finally able to drive her awesome car on her own - and Lucas insisted he wouldn't drink much and leave her as the only sober person there.

They stuck together almost all night, laughing with one another and joking about the other people there, a lot of whom were too drunk to function.

Lucas watched Nathan pull Peyton onto the back porch, and the two of them had a serious-looking conversation that ended with Peyton kissing Nathan's cheek and letting him wrap his arms around her. It looked like a goodbye, but Lucas wasn't sure it was one. He knew his brother still had it bad for the girl.

And even as he thought it, he almost wanted to laugh. He was pretty sure he'd been head over feet for that girl since she drew that picture of them holding hands.

He was terrified of losing their friendship; of losing her.

When she walked back over to him, she was wiping a tear, and she rolled her eyes at his worried look.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "He just...he said he'd always love me."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Kind of big," she said softly. But she still felt like Lucas' feelings were bigger. "You wanna go?"

"You sure? It's barely midnight," he pointed out, checking the clock on the wall.

"Yeah. Let's go."

He did his best to hide his smile when she took his hand and led him back through the house and out the door. Her hand only left his long enough to toss him her keys, insisting that he drive, since she just didn't want to. Really, she just loved sitting next to him in the passenger seat. Their hands joined again between them on the seat of that old car, and she smiled when one of their favourite songs came on the radio. He squeezed her hand, and she looked over at him. And she was reminded, though she didn't need it, that he was amazing.

They drove to her house and climbed the stairs, and as soon as they were in her bedroom, she had her arms around him and her lips on his. He put his hands on her hips and gently pushed her away a bit.

"Peyton," he said, shaking his head.

But then her green eyes were shining up at him, and he couldn't help himself. He pulled her back towards him and kissed her like he wanted to. She clutched his shirt and toyed with the buttons in a way that he knew she had no idea was sexy. His tongue pressed against hers and he held her as close as he could.

"This is..." he started. "We can't."

He knew where it was heading. He was pretty sure they couldn't go there. No matter how badly he wanted to.

"Luke, please," she said softly.

"Peyton..."

"What if this is all we get?" she asked desperately. "What if...What if it all changes, and we never get a chance?"

He really didn't want to believe any of that was true. He didn't want to think that was all they'd get or they'd never get a chance. But he really wasn't sure of it at all.

"You don't know that," he said lamely. He was still holding her against him, and she was saying all the right words, and really, he was only protesting because he thought he should, not because he wanted to.

"You're leaving, and...I'm losing you."

"No, you aren't," he insisted, almost harshly. "You can't lose me."

"Promise?" she asked, her voice just a whisper.

He took his right hand off her hip and held out his pinky finger, and she let out a soft laugh. She linked her pinky with his and they each kissed their thumbs.

"I promise," he said, looking into her eyes. She nodded at him, and he brushed the hair from her face.

"If this is all we get..." her voice trailed and she looked down. "I want you to make love to me."

He shook his head again, but when their eyes locked, he thought she might be right. What if they never kissed again? What if he never got to see her like this again? All vulnerable but still somehow so sure of herself. God, he loved her, and he wanted her, and she was telling him he had her.

So he'd take her.


	5. Take Your Memory With You

When Lucas got to Yale, he felt like he belonged there. He had his own apartment off campus, paid for by his father. It was a touchy issue, but Dan insisted he wanted to contribute and Karen had told Lucas that it was his decision to make. When Lucas said he would accept on the condition that there were absolutely no strings attached, Dan had simply held up his hands and asked who he should make the cheque out to.

He drove his secondhand truck to that college town, bustling with new students, all eager and earnest, and he smiled as he unloaded his things into his spacious one bedroom apartment.

And he called Peyton.

After that night together - that one perfect night - they realized that was all they had at the moment. He was leaving, and she was staying, and they couldn't fight all that. They didn't say words like_ I love you_ or _I need you_ or _Always_ or _Forever._ They just had that one night and neither of them needed to say the words for them both to understand that those few hours together felt everything like what they always should have had.

She was excited to hear from him, and she made him describe his apartment down to the most trivial little detail, and he could almost hear her pouting when he said he had to go. He kind of liked that. He knew it was selfish, but he wanted her to want him. Probably because he wanted her.

Nathan was still in Tree Hill, since his school was so much closer and his apartment there was already set up. He was walking the beach and he saw that girl he still loved so much sitting there on the sand in a sweater he recognized wasn't one of his. Lucas was gone, and she was doing her best to look like she wasn't sad about it, but her best wasn't very good.

"Hey," he said, sitting down next to her.

"Hi."

"You OK?" he asked.

She smiled. As immature a guy as Nathan used to be, he'd really grown up in the years since they'd been close. He treated her well, even though she was continuously breaking his heart. She wondered if he could see that she was in love with someone else. She wondered if he'd ever be over her. She wasn't sure if she wanted him to be, and she had to admit, it felt kind of nice for him to say that he'd always love her. She felt special. But she didn't want him hanging onto her when she wasn't sure she had anything to give him back. If she ever would.

"Yeah," she said. "Just sucks. Everyone's leaving."

"Talk to Brooke lately?" he asked after a few moments.

"Yeah. She's in Cabo until school starts," she said, and they both laughed. Brooke's parents were always taking her to all sorts of wonderful places, and they knew that she hated every second. The girl just wanted a little stability, and she said she'd only ever found it in Tree Hill.

"You know, I'll still be around."

"Nathan..." She shook her head. She didn't want to lead him on, and she didn't want to hurt him, but she wasn't sure what he expected from her.

"I'm just saying...I know I'm not Luke, but...You and I...we can still hang out," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

She realized a few things. Nathan wasn't Lucas. He'd never been Lucas. She wouldn't take back their relationship, but she wondered why she'd ever started it in the first place. She did want to be friends with Nathan. She wanted them to be able to hang out and do things if he was home on weekends. But she didn't want that lingering little bit of sadness in his eyes to stay there any longer. She couldn't tell him how to feel, of course, but she really didn't want him to pine over her.

"Yeah," she said, nodding her head. "Maybe I can come to a game sometime or something."

"That'd be cool."

He smiled at her and tucked her hair behind her ear when she looked over at him, and then she rest her head on his shoulder and they sat there, both very aware that he wasn't really the boy she wanted to be sitting with at all.

----

They all grew apart a little bit, but it was to be expected.

Nathan needed to get over Peyton, and she'd give him the space to do it. Lucas had basketball and school and a whole new lifestyle. Actually, both Nathan and Lucas had those same challenges, Nathan was just going through his a little closer to home.

And Peyton was changing, too. In big ways.

She gained a lot of independence during those first few months on her own. Her father was away a lot, and for the first time in a long time, she didn't have a Scott looking out for her. Sure, Keith would stop by to check the oil in her car and make sure everything in the house was in good working order, but that obviously wasn't the same as having Lucas around.

She didn't feel like she needed Lucas anymore. She wanted him, and she missed him, and she really wished he still lived at home, just a fence separating them. But she found she could survive without him. She didn't need him to go with her every Wednesday to check out the new releases after reading the reviews online. She didn't need him to tell her which jeans to buy, or check up on her if her dad was away. She was doing just fine on her own.

But they still emailed each other every couple days, and she'd smile when she saw his name on her computer screen. She followed his stats - he was the leading point-scorer on his 4-0 team. He checked out her comic strip online and recommended books for her to read. She mailed him mix CDs, and he mailed her Yale merchandise - a mug and a tee shirt and, for fun, a little pompom keychain.

It was well into November before either of them brought up the idea of visiting one another. His season was hectic, and she was busy with school and her part-time job at the café and trying to get a leg up on her SATs. When he mentioned not being able to come home for Thanksgiving, she finally got the nerve to ask when she'd see him.

"Christmas," he said simply. "I'm off for two weeks."

"OK."

"What?" he asked. "You should be excited that your awesome best friend is coming home!"

"I am excited," she insisted. "I just miss you, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Shut up. You know I can hear you smirking over the phone? It's annoying," she said.

"I can hear you smiling, too," he said. "Sounds good."

"Dork."

"You started it!"

"I was being deprecating," she pointed out.

"And I was being nice," he said with a laugh.

It was a Sunday morning, and Nathan was in town, and though they only saw each other about once a month, he'd asked if she wanted to meet with him for brunch. She'd said yes, of course.

When he appeared in her doorway, she gave him a wide smile and held up her index finger.

"Hey, I gotta go," she told Lucas.

"Hot date?" he asked teasingly.

They'd ask each other questions like that every once in a while, both of them knowing full well that they were thinly-veiled ways of ensuring the other was still single.

"Yeah. Your brother," she said. Nathan shook his head. He wondered if he'd ever not be second best with her.

"What? You and Nathan again?" Lucas asked, undisguised disappointment in his voice.

"It's just brunch," she said.

"But you're...You and Nathan?"

"I gotta go!" she cried. "He's waiting."

"Yeah. By all means. Run along," he mumbled.

"Luke..."

"Just call me back later," he said dejectedly. "Promise me."

"I will. Bye, Luke," she said, shaking her head as she hung up the phone. She turned to Nathan and saw him laying sprawled out on her bed. "Sorry."

She noticed he looked good. Every time she saw him, he seemed to be a little bigger; a little more muscular. Watching him play on television wasn't the same as seeing him in person. He looked _good_, she let herself think.

"What?" he asked when he noticed her staring. She rolled her eyes when she saw him smirking.

"Nothing. You just...look good," she said, shrugging her shoulder.

He smiled when she reached for a sweatshirt and she bypassed the navy blue Yale one and pulled on the royal blue Duke on. It was one small victory, but he'd take it.

"You look good too," he said, standing and pointing at her. "Especially now that you're wearing that."

"Hmm. Nathan Scott _liking_ a girl in clothes? Shocking," she teased.

"Funny," he muttered as they walked out of her room.

He was still the older boy with the killer smile and the flawless ball game. But, he noticed, she was no longer just the skinny cheerleader he had his eye on. She was a beautiful woman - yes, woman - who somehow managed to steal his heart every time he saw her. She was joking with him half the time, cutting him down and teasing him, but he loved it. He loved her.

He hated her for it.

----

Peyton was sleeping one morning in December, her covers pulled up to her chin and just an oversized Duke tee shirt on over her pair of little shorts.

She really didn't expect someone to climb into bed with her.

She screamed and started hitting the intruder, but he grabbed her wrists and she calmed down. Well, her terror morphed into excitement.

"Luke!" she cried. "I hate you! You're home!"

He could only laugh as she threw her arms around him, pressing herself against him in a way he hadn't realized he'd missed so damn much.

"I'm home."

"I missed you," she said into his shoulder. "You're bigger."

She pulled away, but her hand lingered on his now more toned bicep, and she smiled when she saw him blushing a little bit.

"I missed you, too, Blondie," he said softly. "You look different."

"Shut up," she scoffed.

"You do. More...I don't know."

"Good or bad different?" she asked with a raised brow.

"Good. Definitely good," he said. "Except the shirt, I mean."

He didn't know what to say when she sat up and pulled it over her head, only briefly breaking eye contact with him. His hand gravitated to the curve of her waist before she laid down again, and she saw his eyes darken.

Definitely good different. The girl he used to know never would have done something so brazen.

She moved a little closer, and his hand trailed up the bare skin of her side, and he just breathed her in a little bit. She smelled the same, and he didn't know why he thought she wouldn't, but it was reassuring that she hadn't changed too much.

They didn't kiss for several minutes. His hand just explored her bare skin, and she just looked into his eyes, and both of them had shallow breath by the time their lips actually touched.

"I missed you," he repeated, whispering against her skin as he hovered above her.

"Kiss me," she breathed out, pulling him closer to her.

And he did. A lot. All morning. And a lot of evenings and mornings and afternoons after that first one.

The whole two weeks he was home, they acted like a couple when it was just the two of them, and like the best friends they'd always been - and still were - when they were around everyone else.

She didn't miss the look of hurt in Nathan's eyes when he saw Peyton laughing at something Lucas said. It was a different laugh than she used with him, and he'd told her that once, back when they were together. She winked at him when he took to the River Court, but he didn't - and she suspected couldn't - smile at her. Lucas left her so he could play one-on-one with his brother, and she sat there, atop the picnic table with her weight resting on her elbows, and she watched the two boys she cared about most in the world.

She loved them both. She was in love with only one of them.

"So what's up with you and Luke?" Nathan asked, though it killed him to do it, when he and Peyton met for a hot chocolate one evening.

"What?" she asked, faking shock. She kind of expected it. She didn't know what to say, though.

"Come on. Don't act like it's nothing," he said seriously, shaking his head.

"It's...It's not nothing. It hasn't been nothing for a while," she admitted. "But I don't know what it is."

"You should figure it out," he said.

"What does that mean?" Her tone was defensive. He kind of adored that fight in her.

"I just mean it sucks when it's not all on the table. When you don't know what the other person is thinking," he said, shrugging one shoulder.

She wasn't sure they were talking about she and Lucas anymore.

"Nathan..."

"It's fine, Peyton," he insisted, stopping at the bench they always used to sit on, overlooking the river. She sat down next to him, and he could tell she felt badly. "I just want you to be happy or whatever."

"Or whatever?" she asked with a smile.

"I just mean...if you're happy with Luke, then it's cool with me." He turned to her and she was looking down at her cup. "But it probably wouldn't matter anyway."

"Probably not," she admitted, making them both laugh. "I think it was always there with us, you know? But with the...You are _so_ not the right person to talk to about this."

"Hey." He furrowed his brow as he turned to her. "We're friends."

"Yeah," she said, smiling at him.

"Talk to Lucas," he insisted. "Because if you two don't get your shit together, I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"What does that mean?" she laughed.

He wanted to say that if she didn't move on, he never would, either. He wanted to say that she needed to stop treating him so well, so it'd be easier for him to be without her.

He knew she wouldn't want to hear all that. He knew she probably knew that was what he meant, though.

"It means you two dance around each other. And if you think no one notices all that, you're insane," he said, laughing when she punched his arm.

She realized it then, really realized it. Nathan really would always love her. She'd always love him, too, just not the same way. He loved her in that big, important way that she'd always been searching for. What she knew now was that how good the love felt had everything to do with the person who was giving it. Nathan could love her all he wanted, but it'd probably never feel as good as Lucas' hand on her waist or his lips on hers.

"I'm scared," she admitted, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah." He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. "I know."

"What if he doesn't...?"

"He does."

"You think?" she asked in a small voice, looking up at him.

"If he doesn't, he's an idiot," he said.

She looked out at the river again, and laughed in the arms of a boy - now man - who'd tried to be so many of her firsts, that he had no chance at ever being her last.

----

Peyton walked into Lucas' bedroom in his Yale sweatshirt and a pair of black sweatpants. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she had a red headband holding the stray curls back off her face. Her hands were tucked up into the sleeves of the sweater she wore, and she looked nervous.

And then he smiled and lowered his book, and she smiled back. She climbed onto his bed, laying next to him when he opened his arm to her.

"So...tomorrow," she said softly.

"Yeah," he whispered before pressing a kiss to her temple. "I don't know what to say."

"You wanna tell me what this is?" She pulled away just enough to look at him, and he took a deep breath. "I don't know what you want, Luke, and it scares me. You're the one leaving and going to do all these amazing things, and I'm staying here, and it just sucks because I don't know..."

He stopped her rambling with a kiss, and he smiled at her when they'd parted.

"I want you."

"You do?" she asked, letting herself smile at him.

"I didn't think that was a secret," he said, tracing a pattern on her hip beneath his sweatshirt.

"I just didn't know if this was just a fling to you, or..."

"Peyton," he said, shaking his head. "You're...God, you're so much more to me than that."

"I am?"

"Stop questioning everything I say," he said, and she laughed a little bit. "You know I love you."

"I love you, too," she said softly.

"I'm in love with you."

"I'm in love with you, too." There were tears in her eyes when she said it, because it felt like such a release. Such a long time coming, and such a big, huge deal.

"Promise?" he asked.

She knew he expected her to hold up her pinky, but instead, she just kissed him in a way that was somehow really new. Fuller and bigger and just different in all the best ways.

And he loved it that time, when it was _his_ shirt she was pulling over her head and not someone else's. He assumed that was fairly symbolic or something, but she started kissing him again, and her hand slid over his stomach beneath his tee shirt, and he stopped thinking about anything that wasn't just her.

Just her and just him and just a love they'd always felt.

----

He wouldn't let her say goodbye at the airport, insisting that it was just too big a cliché. They stood in her backyard, next to their passage in the fence, and she kissed him until Keith honked the horn from the driveway and he had to go.

"Two weeks isn't enough," he said, resting his forehead against hers.

"No," she agreed. "But I love you."

It didn't make any sense and they both knew it, but he understood what she was saying. They only had those two weeks, but they had a lot after that, too. They just had to be apart for a little bit.

"I love you."

He kissed her lips, then her cheek, then the tip of her nose.

"Go. Keith's waiting," she said.

He kissed her one last time, as though he were trying to memorize just how she felt, and neither of them said goodbye when he left.

The wouldn't say that word.

She and Karen sat in the kitchen of Peyton's house with cups of tea in front of them, and when Karen asked how Peyton was doing, the girl started crying.

Karen had always known there was a little something more to Lucas and Peyton than either of them had been able to see. She'd known it since that day she saw them cuddled up together on Peyton's bed after Anna died, and probably even before then. They'd always been just kids, but now they were old enough to feel the feelings they had no doubt always had, and while Karen was thrilled that the two had finally figured it all out, she worried.

She worried because Peyton was a little younger, and Lucas was away at school, and there was someone else in love with that blonde girl, too.

She just didn't see it ending well.

But she moved to the chair next to Peyton's, and Karen rubbed circles on the younger girl's back until Peyton managed to smile.

"It's crazy," Peyton said as she wiped her tears. "He was always just Lucas." Karen smiled and nodded knowingly. "Just the boy who used to try to tell me that gummy bears and gummy worms were two very different candies." They both laughed, recalling those very serious childhood arguments. "And now...he's a lot more than that."

"I think he always was," Karen said sagely. "You just didn't know."

"Yeah," Peyton whispered. "It's gonna work, right?"

"I hope so, sweetie," Karen said. She wouldn't make a promise if she couldn't keep it.

"Me too," Peyton said, looking down into her cup.


	6. I Don't Wanna Beg You, Baby

**A/N: **I wasn't going to update this today. I really wasn't. _But_, I love you guys, and I had it written, so...here you go. And also, I know I originally said this was going to be only about 8 chapters...I lied. Well, didn't lie, but underestimated how much story I had to tell, if that makes sense.

**----**

They joked over the phone one night that they'd been dating for a while, and they just hadn't known it. Nothing really changed, except they ended their conversations with those three words, and they desperately wanted to kiss each other and do other things with each other, and they were constantly wondering when one would be able to visit the other.

But his schedule was hectic, between school and practices and games, and hers was almost as crazy. Any weekends he was free, she wasn't, and vice versa.

So they made due with phone calls and emails and silly little letters mailed back and forth between them.

She felt silly sometimes. Almost childlike. She supposed she should have felt grown up when people asked her about her boyfriend and she told them he went to Yale, but it just made her feel a little like a young girl with a crush. Of course, it was more than that and it was mutual, but she saw the way people looked at her. She saw the way people raised their brows at the photo of she and Lucas she had posted in her locker. He was a sexy, built college basketball player, and she was still the sort of lanky high school junior.

When she told that to Lucas, he called her crazy. He told her she was sexy as hell, and that he loved her, and that he never wanted her to ever feel like they weren't meant to be together.

Because they were, he said. And he made it really easy to believe him.

His reading break and her March break coincided, and he was excited for Peyton to visit him. He wanted her to see where he lived and where he went to school. He wanted to walk with her across campus, holding her hand and letting her see why he loved it as much as he did.

But Nathan was in March Madness - Lucas' team didn't make the playoffs - and Peyton told Lucas she had to catch Nathan's game, since he'd gone out of his way to get her and her dad tickets. Lucas understood.

But he was still jealous. He wanted her with him. He wanted her watching his games. He wanted to be in the playoffs and have his games televised on NBC. But he was proud of Nathan, and he almost liked that his girlfriend and his brother could still be friends, even after everything they'd been through. Almost. He still wished his brother didn't have all those feelings wrapped up in that girl.

As she walked off the plane, she was more nervous than she'd ever been in her life, and she thought that was stupid. He was just her boyfriend. He was just her best friend.

But he was _Lucas_.

He was - she was convinced - the love of her life. Seeing him for the first time in months was kind of a big deal.

And he looked _good_.

He was standing there with a book in his hands, wearing her favourite jeans of his, and just a plain white button down shirt. His hair was a little messy, and he was smiling over something. Probably just the book he was reading. But even as she thought that, she knew it was more than just the words on that page.

Then he looked up and saw her walking towards him, he smiled even wider and made his way to her, wrapping her into the tightest hug she'd ever felt. She thought it was pretty indicative of their whole relationship that he hugged her before anything else.

The next thing he did was plant one hell of a kiss on her right there at the arrivals gate.

"How have we gone without that for months?" he asked, his eyes closed and his forehead resting against hers.

"I hated it," she said, and they both laughed. "The going without."

"Me too," he whispered. He kissed her again quickly, then took her bag from her.

She clutched his arm as they walked through the airport, and when they were waiting at baggage claim, she just couldn't help it. She stood in front of him and kissed him again until he pulled away and gave her a slightly scared look, wondering where that confidence had come from. Not that he minded. She mumbled an apology and he pulled her into his arms. He saw that they were drawing stares for their PDA, but he honestly couldn't find it in him to give a damn.

"I'm going to like having you around," he said softly. He smiled when she laughed against his chest.

"Was there any doubt?" she asked.

"No, no," he answered quickly. She pulled away from him and he tucked her hair behind her ear. "God, I missed you."

"I missed you so much," she said. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, just happy to have his girl with him again.

They collected her bag, the size of which Lucas made the obligatory comments on, explaining that it was his job as the boyfriend to tease her about it. When they got to his truck, she sat as close as she could to him, and he actually had to pull his hand from hers to make a left-handed turn, but he couldn't say anything. He loved it, and he loved her, and he loved how much she wanted to be near him.

The first night, they didn't leave his apartment, and neither wanted to. He'd pointed out a few things on the drive to his place, but she hadn't really cared about anything but being alone with him. She complained of the cold and he pulled her closer and put extra blankets on his bed, and he promised to keep her warm.

Walking around his campus with cups of coffee in their hands and wearing Lucas' sweater, Peyton didn't feel quite so young anymore. She felt like she was in a serious relationship with a man who treated her well and only had eyes for her.

But she noticed that other girls had eyes for him, too. Smart girls with books in their arms and smiles on their faces, and pens tucked into their hair. Lucas seemed unfazed, but Peyton had to wonder what happened when she wasn't around. Did those girls talk to him? Did he talk to them? Did he think they were pretty? She knew she was driving herself crazy, but she couldn't help herself. She wondered if he had the same worries.

Then, when they passed a group of guys, Lucas, without even really thinking, pulled her a little closer to him, and she had to smile. He kissed her forehead and she let out a sigh. She loved this. She loved him.

She hated that she had to leave.

She did her best not to cry at the airport, though Lucas told her it was OK if she did. She just said she didn't want to be that girl, and he shook his head before he kissed her.

"Why'd you have to go so far away?" she asked with a pout. "North Carolina has plenty of good schools."

"Not Yale."

"But it has me," she said, smiling up at him.

And he thought that was the best argument he'd ever heard for going home.

"I'll be home for the summer," he simply told her. "Not even two months."

"Yes. And it'll be bikinis and ice cream and sleeping on top of the sheets in my room."

"Bikinis for you. Not for me," he said, then stopped to think. "Well, they _are_ kind of for me."

She'd just started laughing when her flight was called, and she closed her eyes as she felt him hold her a little tighter.

"I love you," he said. She nodded and did her best to smile.

"I love you."

"Call me when you get in, OK? First thing," he requested, and she nodded again.

He kissed her and she bit the inside of her lip once they'd parted, just to keep herself from crying.

They didn't say that word - _goodbye_ - and she just turned from him without another word and walked away towards her gate.

He wished they were the same age. He wished that she was going to school with him, or he was going to school with her. They'd had an amazing week together, but it was only that. A week. Not even a week. Six short days with her like he'd never really spent with her before. He loved her, of course, but he knew their relationship wasn't normal. The majority of their romantic relationship was spent with miles and miles of distance separating them.

He knew he wanted her. He wanted to be with her. But it was really damn hard to always watching her walking away, or to be walking away from her.

To think they had at least three more years of that to go was almost too much.

----

"Nate!" Peyton shouted, rushing towards him. "Congratulations!"

She threw her arms around the smiling man as soon as she was close enough to do so, and he had to hold her up, she was so excited. He'd just won the NCAA title and was rightfully named MVP of his team, and he was back in Tree Hill for the first time. She'd left him a very adorable, very excited voicemail message immediately after the game, but this, he thought, was a much better way to celebrate.

"Thanks," he chuckled as he held her. "Excited much?"

"Shut up! You won the tournament!"

"I know. I just thought you'd be consoling Luke or something," he teased. But he wasn't really teasing, and they both probably knew it.

"Shut up," she said, swatting his arm. She moved away from him completely and they started walking, as if by second nature, towards their favourite little ice cream shop he always used to take her to.

"You look good, Sawyer," he noted. "But I don't think that smile's just for me."

"I um...just talked to him, so...you know..."

"Right. Post convo high," he teased, elbowing her slightly.

He wondered if she'd ever know how much it killed him that she was with Lucas.

But she still did this. She ran towards him and congratulated him and talked to him at least once a week. She'd gone to a few of his games and she wore his number on the back of her Duke tee shirt (he ignored that she wore that Yale one a lot more often). She still called him Nate sometimes when she got excited or was joking with him.

The only thing she didn't do was love him.

And he was still - always - trying not to love her. She made it damn near impossible, though, and he hated that. It'd been over two years of him loving her, and he wasn't even close to being sick of her.

"God, I can't believe you won. And you were _so_ good," she said, shaking her head. "I swear. And I watched the analysis after and they said that you..."

"Peyton," he laughed. "I don't want to talk about me. I want to talk about you."

"I have nothing to say," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I'm just the high school kid. You're the superstar."

They were both quiet, and she grimaced a little when she looked over at him. That was always her little term of endearment for him, and he'd always loved it. He wouldn't look at her, instead watching the pavement pass beneath him.

She hated that all that history would always be between them.

They spent their day together, and Peyton rolled her eyes when Nathan was asked for autographs. Non stop. All day long. Finally, she told him that they'd have to go to her house to escape the paparazzi. He just laughed, but that was where they ended up.

"So really," he started as he lay back on her bed, "how are you?"

"We've been hanging out for a couple hours, Nathan," she said with a laugh.

"I know, but you never give details in public," he said.

The way he spoke the words just reminded her how much he really knew her. Like it was just a given; something he'd always known. She wondered what else he knew.

She sat on the bed facing him, and tucked her leg beneath her. She shrugged her shoulder, but she could tell by the way he was looking at her that she wasn't going to get away with not being honest.

"It's hard," she admitted quietly. She knew he would understand what she was talking about without having to say anything more. "I hate it."

"You hate it?"

"Not...I mean, not being with him. Just the distance and...I wish..."

"What?" he asked gently, furrowing his brow at her.

"I want to be able to _date_ my boyfriend, Nathan," she said, and he let out a soft laugh. "You know? Like, visiting him was great, and we got to be a real couple, and...it was nice. We never really got to do that."

"Right."

"But now I'm lucky if I can get him on the phone for more than 10 minutes at a time," she said sadly. "And we're supposed to do this for...however long? What happens when I go away to school?"

"Go to Yale," Nathan said, shrugging his shoulder like it was the simplest solution.

"Yeah. I hear they'll take anybody," she said, making them both laugh. "I don't even know if I want to go to college. I just hate being away from him."

"Yeah. Sucks," he mumbled.

She didn't hear him, and he was glad. He knew what she was saying. He kind of thought it was worse for him, though, since the feelings were one sided. She was in love with his brother, not him. And it was torture, but there was nothing he could do about it.

"But, he'll be home for the summer, then it'll be just like before. Only better," she said, smiling privately.

"Yeah. Good. That's...good."

"What?" she asked with a huff. "You're being...."

She stopped talking when she realized exactly why he was being weird. And she felt awful. He kept insisting that it was OK for her to talk to him about Lucas, but she knew it had to hurt, and she wasn't being very sensitive to that. Of course he was going to tell her it was alright, because he wanted to be a good guy. That didn't mean she had to talk his ear off about it.

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. He went to speak, but she stopped him. "I'm...this isn't fair."

"Whatever," he said, sitting up. "We always knew you and him would get together."

"But..."

"It's fine, Peyton," he insisted. "He's your boyfriend."

She knew him so well that she could hear the disappointment in his tone even though he was trying his hardest not to let it show.

That was the first moment she really let herself believe that he _would_ love her forever.

----

The bomb that was dropped on her at the end of her junior year was one she needed her boyfriend, her best friend, to help her through.

But he was studying for finals and writing essays, and she couldn't get him on the phone. Not for lack of trying. She was starting to think he was avoiding her, though she really didn't want to be insecure about it.

"Luke, it's me. I guess I just wanted to talk to you," she said sadly to his voicemail. "Um...I'm kind of going through some stuff, and I just...wanted some advice or something. Call me when you can."

He sent her a quick email in response, apologizing for not being around, but saying that he'd call her after his last final when he had time to talk.

Well, that was eight days later.

She really didn't want to be mad at him. She honestly understood that he was busy finishing out his school year and studying. But where was the boy who could tell in one word that she was upset? How had he not notice that she was doing a very, very poor job of holding it together.

She purposely didn't answer the first time he called. It was petty and juvenile, but she felt a smug satisfaction. Maybe he needed to know how it felt. She didn't want to be the kind of person to do something so silly, but she also didn't want to have the kind of boyfriend who went eight days without calling.

"Hello?" she answered the second time he called. He'd dialed the house number instead of her cell, and she didn't bother checking the call display. She knew she would have answered regardless.

"Wow, it is good to hear your voice," he breathed out. "This week has sucked."

"Yeah. I know."

"But I'm free now, and I missed you."

She couldn't help but notice that he wasn't asking how she was, or acknowledging the fact that the last two quick messages she'd left, she had told him she was less than perfect and needed him.

"Yeah, I missed you too," she said. It was the truth. "Finals went well?"

"I think so. I feel good about them," he said. She could almost see him shrugging his shoulder, and she was really starting to think he didn't know her as well as she knew him. "So I have some news."

"Really?"

She smiled. She assumed he had a flight time or an arrival date for when he was getting in. It should only have been another week or so, then they'd have the whole summer together, just like they'd planned.

"Yeah. I got an internship! A paid one. At a publishing house," he said happily. "It's more a job than an internship, really. It's just fact checking, but...It's something."

"Luke!" she said excitedly. "That's great!"

"I'm so happy to hear you say that," he said, relief in his voice.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Well...because I'm not coming home," he said, as though she should have picked that up, though he never even said the words.

"You're...Wait, what?" she asked, unable to hide the disappointment and anger she felt.

"Well yeah. It's..."

"You're staying in New Haven?"

"It's a really good opportunity," he explained. "And it'll help me get my foot in the door."

"But we were going to...We were supposed to have summer together," she said. She got the impression there was no changing his plans.

And she was pissed about it.

"I know, but then this came up, and..."

"And you accepted the job without even talking to me about it," she finished. "Does your mom even know?"

"I talked to her this morning," he said. "I can't believe you're not happy for me."

"I'm happy for you," she insisted. "Not so happy for me."

"What do you want me to say?" he asked in defeat. "I...I feel like I have to do this."

She let out a sigh and closed her eyes. She couldn't hold him back, and though she'd never, ever even try, she really hated that he seemed to have forgotten all about her for at least a week. She wondered when he'd applied for that job. She wondered why he hadn't mentioned it, or how long he'd been planning to stay in New Haven.

"And I feel like my boyfriend is choosing to be away from me when we've never even been together for more than like, a week at a time, Luke," she said softly. He let out a breath on the other end of the line. "When are we even going to see each other? I doubt you'll get time off, and I..."

"I guess I didn't think it'd bother you," he interrupted.

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"Of course it does," he said, really trying not to show his anger.

He wasn't sure why she didn't understand how big a deal this job was. Sure, it was going to be hard to be away from her for the summer, but they'd have visits and they'd make it work. He didn't want her to doubt that.

She realized she had yet to tell him her own news. And the fact that he didn't think she'd be upset that he'd be staying away from her for...well, God knows how long? That made her question their entire relationship. For the first time since they'd started dating, she wondered if they really were better as just friends. He'd be able to do whatever, and she wouldn't care quite so much. It wouldn't be as hard. It wouldn't hurt as much to know that she was more attached to him than he was to her.

"Peyton, I love you, you know that," he said, hating that he had to reassure her so.

"I know," she admitted. "I love you too." She paused for a moment. "Even when you leave me alone here for the whole summer."

"Seriously? Are you gonna hold this over my head forever?" he asked incredulously. "What do you want me to say?"

Now she was really mad. She'd been joking. Then he essentially yelled at her, and the joke didn't seem so funny anymore.

"How about_ 'I'm sorry, Peyton'_?" she suggested. She wondered if he realized that he hadn't apologized.

"You want me to apologize for living my life?" he spat.

"No!" she shouted. "I want you to apologize for treating me like I'm not part of it." He groaned, and she bit back tears. He wasn't going to apologize for anything, and she knew that. "I can't talk to you anymore right now. I just...need to sit with this for a bit."

"Peyton, come on..."

"And by the way? I'm adopted," she said, just before hanging up the phone.

She wasn't sure how long she cried after that. At least a couple hours. When she finally answered the phone - he'd been calling almost non-stop - he apologized over and over again until she believed he was sorry. He told her he didn't want to be without her, and that he hated that it had to be that way, but he really needed to take that job. She understood it, and she told him she had since he told her, but she just hated that he was so far away.

They simply said they'd figure it out, just like they always had.

She was crying again as she told him all the details about her birth mother, and he really hated that he wasn't in Tree Hill to hold her. When he told her so, she just thanked him and told her that he'd just said exactly what she needed to hear.

"Luke," she said softly, laying on her bed and wiping her cheeks. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said. "Always."

"Always?"

"I mean it." He let out a little sigh, wondering how she didn't know it already. "It's you and me, Peyt."

They'd only see each other once that summer, when she visited him for close to two weeks.

The one thing they realized through it all was that _Always_ was always there, even when it was hard to see it.


	7. I Should Have Been Chasing You

Her senior year, Peyton was voted homecoming queen. She'd gone with her friend Mouth, a senior boy who had always lived in her neighbourhood and used to hang out with the guys at the River Court. She was tipped off that she was going to win, and did a little extra campaigning for Mouth, who'd been added to the ballot when people learned he was going with her.

Really, she didn't want to have to dance with one of the popular jock idiots and have to have her photo printed in the yearbook forever next to the guy. She loved Mouth like a brother, and the photo they took together was adorable. They danced to a popular song they both hated, and laughed the whole night.

She called Lucas to tell him about her evening - just like he'd made her promise to do - and he laughed into the phone and told her he was sure she looked great in her tiara, and that he wanted to see pictures as soon as she had any. They hung up the phone and he just shook his head and smiled. As much as he'd wanted to be the one to take her to that dance, he was glad she had a good time. And he knew he had nothing to worry about as far as Mouth was concerned.

"Sorry about that," he told his guest. "My girlfriend. She had this thing, and I made her promise to call."

"A thing with a tiara?"

"Homecoming. She's a senior," he explained.

Most of the time he didn't care about the age difference or any of that, but for some reason, that night the space between them felt really big. He was working on a project on relativism in _The Canterbury Tales_, and she was dressing up and going to homecoming.

"Oh. Wow," she said. "I didn't know. How come you never talk about her?"

"She hasn't been brought up," he said with a shrug, finding his place in his book again.

"What's she like?"

"What's with the 20 questions, Lindsey?" he asked with a laugh. She rolled her eyes, and he gave in. "She's...beautiful. Perfect. Way too good to me. Probably way too good _for_ me. I've known her literally all my life."

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah. The story's totally...Our houses were right behind one another. We got together for good last year."

"For good?" Lindsey inquired.

He really wasn't sure why she was so insistent to get all the details. Or why he was so reluctant to give them.

"Or for bad," he said.

He finally saw some sort of emotion in her empty eyes, and it looked a little like disappointment.

Lindsey would try to convince him, a couple weeks later, that long distance relationships never worked, and even more, high school relationships never lasted. He got angry. Very angry, and told her flat out that she didn't know what the hell she was talking about.

He and Peyton were not just any couple. It was them, and they'd make it. Anything less would be a tragedy, and he wouldn't let it happen. He made her promise that she never would, either.

----

It got tense. Peyton was working hard at school, trying her hardest to bring up her average just a little bit more, and looking at schools.

Yale was on the list for one reason only, or she wouldn't have even considered it.

She liked it there. It was beautiful, and she knew it was an amazing school. It just wasn't a place she ever would have thought to go if it weren't for Lucas already being there. That said, that made it a better choice for her than any other school she'd thought of.

And there were a few. Yale, Columbia, UNC, the University of Virginia, and Duke.

"You're applying to Duke?" Lucas asked when she told him of the applications she'd sent in.

"Mhmm."

"How come?"

"Because it's a good school," she said nonchalantly. "And I look good in Duke Blue."

"You look better in Yale Blue," he mumbled, and she laughed.

"Either way, I probably won't get into either of them," she said.

"Would you stop that? You'll get in."

"Luke, I know you think I'm a bit smarter than I really am, but it's not like Yale just accepts anyone," she insisted.

"Well, it's a good thing you aren't just anyone," he said.

"Stop smirking. I hate it when you smirk over the phone."

"I can't help it!"

"Don't be charming," she demanded.

"You love my charm, babe," he said with a laugh.

"Not...Not when you're so far away," she said softly.

"All the more reason to come to Yale," he pointed out.

"I don't need any more reasons." He let out a soft laugh, and she lay back on her bed. "I miss you."

They rarely said those words, he realized. It was always just a given.

"I miss you, too," he echoed. "What are you wearing?"

"Luke!" she hissed. "My dad's home."

"I didn't ask you to do _that_," he laughed. "I just asked what you're wearing."

"And when have you ever _just_ asked that?"

"Right. Well...tell me. I'm asking now," he said, making her laugh.

"I'm actually wearing the sweatshirt you gave me," she said softly.

"You mean the one you stole?"

"Semantics," she said.

"What else?"

"Umm..." she said, knowing he'd hear that she wasn't wearing anything else.

"God," he breathed out. "I love you. I...this isn't fair."

"You asked."

"You should wear clothes."

"Lucas, I have to go," she said with a chuckle. "Call me tomorrow."

"What? You can't go now," he said, almost pouting.

"Go to bed. You have practice in the morning," she insisted.

"Bed. Alone. Without you."

"That's what you get for being born two years before me," she told him.

"Yes. That _is_ all my fault," he mumbled.

"Goodnight, Luke. Love you," she said as she laughed.

"Love you, too."

She decided, that night, that if she got into Yale, there was no way she'd even consider going anywhere else. She'd known it before, or at least just assumed.

Now there was no way she'd ever be without him. Not when she had the choice. It really was just as easy as Nathan had told her. Just go to Yale.

When she called Lucas one night the next week, she heard a few people laughing in the background. A few girls. She was used to it, since she often called after games when he'd be at a party or on the bus where there'd be cheerleaders. But this was different. She'd called his home number, and as far as she knew, there was no reason for there to be anyone at his place. She didn't want to be possessive or jealous. She just couldn't help it.

She asked him about it the next morning when he called her back, and he replied that it was 'just Lindsey and a couple friends'. She wondered why Lindsey was named, but no one else was. She wondered who Lindsey was in the first place. He told her she was being crazy and jealous, and she told him he was being insensitive.

"This is ridiculous, Peyton."

"Is it?!"

"Yes! What the hell are you getting all crazy over? I have friends. It's not like you don't have guy friends I know you hang out with," he pointed out.

"Yeah. Mouth and Fergie. Not exactly the same thing," she scoffed.

"And Nathan."

She let out a bitter sigh. She should have known he'd bring it up eventually. He knew, well, she hoped he knew, that her relationship with Nathan was strictly platonic and had been for ages.

"Really? You're bringing him into it?"

"Would you be OK if I were friends with any of my exes?" he asked seriously.

"He's your brother!" she cried.

"He's_ in love with you_," he argued.

"Yeah? Sometimes I wonder if you are," she said softly. She wasn't even sure he'd heard her. He didn't say anything for a few moments, and she was about to move on when he spoke.

"I can't believe you just said that."

"Really? You can't believe it? Because calling me crazy isn't a great way to prove it."

"I shouldn't have to prove it," he said.

"I shouldn't need you to."

He had no argument. They were both right, and neither of them were going to give in, and they both probably knew that. He just told her he was going to hang up, and that she could call him when she'd calmed down.

She did, a few days later, and they talked, but it was a little harder after that. A little more strained. They just blamed it on the distance and the fact that they hadn't seen each other since the middle of the summer. They said they loved each other, and they said they'd just spend a great Christmas break together, and they'd be fine.

But Lucas had a really strange feeling that they'd oversimplified.

----

Lucas tore his ACL in a game right before he was set to come home for Christmas. He was checked as he jumped to make a shot, and he simply landed the wrong way. He was rushed to the hospital for an MRI and immediate reparative surgery, given how bad the tear was.

Karen was the first person called. She and Keith packed their bags quickly and caught the first flight out that they could get on.

Peyton had to find out about it on the news the next morning.

She knew Lucas wouldn't - couldn't - call her, and she knew Keith and Karen had other things to worry about.

She wasn't surprised when Nathan was the first one to get her on the phone.

"Hey," he said. "I'm in Tree Hill."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because...Because I know you're by yourself and you shouldn't have to be," he answered honestly.

It was rare that he ever came right out and named his motives. He'd say he was visiting his mom, or he had to stop at the house for something, or he just wanted the quiet to study. He rarely ever said he'd come to see her.

She wanted to say that she didn't need him, but she kind of felt like she did. She was tired of sitting in her bedroom alone and thinking and worrying about the boy who hadn't called her yet.

"I'm at home," she said. He told her he'd be over in a bit, and she hung up without another word.

Nathan showed up with her favourite chocolate bar and a sympathetic smile on his face. She adored him for that. As much as she was sure that he should have been at school, doing something or another, she was really glad he was there with her.

They spent the rest of the day, and most of the evening, sitting and talking about silly things. His game highlights and bloopers, and a few of the things that had happened in her own life that she knew he'd find amusing.

"Nathan?" she asked after a while. "What would you do? If you got hurt, I mean."

"I...I don't know," he answered. "If I couldn't play anymore, I'd be..."

"He can't play anymore?" she asked worriedly.

"Well, I don't know. It depends how bad it is. But with an ACL, rehab takes about a year," he explained. "By then he'd be a senior, and his spot in the lineup...I mean, they can't hold his spot for him."

"So he won't be able to play anymore," she stated. He just shrugged one shoulder slowly. She closed her eyes and a tear slipped out, and it broke his heart.

"He'll be OK," Nathan insisted firmly. "He's got school, and his family." She shook her head. They both knew losing basketball would kill Lucas. "And he's got you."

She really wanted to believe that she was enough.

----

Lucas returned home a week later with Keith and Karen, and Peyton went to see him for the first time in far too close to six months. She found him in his bedroom, his leg stretched out on a pillow, and his eyes fixed on the television screen in the corner.

"Hi," she said softly, stepping closer to the bed.

"Hey." He didn't take his eyes off the screen, and she realized he probably hated that she had to see him like that. She honestly didn't care. She just wanted to _see_ him.

"I was scared. I'm glad you're OK."

"Oh yeah. I'm great," he mumbled.

It wasn't exactly the hello she wanted.

"Do you need anything? Can I...I dunno...Fluff your pillow? Get you a snack?" she asked, and he finally looked over at her for the first time. She was smiling, and he smiled at her. "Kiss it better?"

"Hmm. Kiss might actually help," he said. She sat down on the bed next to him and wove her fingers through his.

"I'm not kissing the wound. I looked up pictures online to prepare myself. Not pretty," she said, grimacing. He chuckled and shook his head.

"I think I could settle for a real kiss."

"Settle?" she asked incredulously.

"Just do it," he demanded playfully.

She kissed him, and they both let it linger a bit. That first kiss after such a long time apart was always a little more amazing than the rest. Of course, they'd both take seeing each other every day over those kisses, but they had to make the most of what they got.

"Sorry I scared you," he said as she got comfortable next to him.

She just nodded her head, and the two of them sat together on his bed for the rest of the day and well into the night, watching the first season of The Wire on DVD.

She really didn't want to admit that it felt different than it did before. She knew that had very little to do with the fact that he was essentially bed-ridden. There was something more going on.

And it all came to a head about a week after he was home.

She brought him lunch from Karen's, and as soon as she arrived, she started taking care of him like she had since he returned. She was arranging pillows and refilling his ice water, talking about who she'd seen in town, and how they wished him well. She grabbed his laundry from his dryer and brought it into his room to fold, and he set his book down next to the bed.

"Can you stop that?" he asked.

"What?"

"This. You're not my homemaker, you're my girlfriend," he said.

"I'm just helping. I like taking care of you," she said, shrugging one shoulder as she smiled at him.

"I'm not a fucking cripple, Peyton. I can pour my own water. I just want you to..."

"OK. That's...You're just being mean," she insisted, cutting him off. "Luke, I know you _can_ do this stuff. I just _want_ to."

"Maybe I don't want you to," he said firmly.

"Why not?"

"Just stop all this. Don't you have things to do?" he asked.

"Are you kicking me out? Why are you pushing me away?"

She looked genuinely hurt, and really, he couldn't blame her. He wasn't exactly being delicate about these things that had been driving him absolutely crazy. He didn't want all his thoughts to come out this way, but it seemed they just were, and now that she was standing there with her hand on her hip and an upset look on her face, he just couldn't stop himself.

"Because I'm not enough for you anymore!" he shouted. "I'm nothing. I've got nothing."

She could tell that while it was mostly an exaggeration, that he actually felt that way, and she hated it. She wanted to tell him he was more than enough for her.

"You have me," she reminded him.

"You aren't my future," he said before really thinking. The tears that stupid statement - one that wasn't even true - put in her eyes had him kicking himself.

"That's..."

"I meant...I don't know what I'm going to do," he tried to explain.

"I don't think that's what you meant at all," she said, wiping at her cheeks hastily.

He didn't know what to say. Maybe she was right, just a little bit. They hadn't been clicking like they used to lately, and since he came home, things had been especially tense. He didn't want that for them. He didn't want them to drift apart and start resenting or hating each other. He was aware that a shouting match wasn't going to help them at all.

"You don't know what it's like to lose the thing you love," he said.

"Don't I?" she asked weakly, avoiding eye contact. "I feel like I'm losing you."

"Don't be so dramatic," he scoffed. "I'm fine."

"I'm not talking about physically, Lucas. You're..."

"What?" he snapped. "Trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do with my life now? Yeah."

She wouldn't cry. She didn't know why, but she couldn't. She was sure it was just some sort of stubbornness, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of letting him know he affected her that much.

And the next words she spoke, she really didn't want to be true.

But they were, and he'd just proven it.

"Yeah, well maybe you should figure it out on your own," she said, looking into his eyes.

"Maybe I should," he said back, without missing a beat.

She let out a bitter laugh and walked out the door. She didn't say another word. She didn't tell him she didn't mean it or that he was was just angry and they'd work it out. She wasn't sure they would. What she realized, as she wiped her tears and walked around the block - not through the fence - was that maybe she'd been thinking it for a while. Maybe ever since, really, that summer when he didn't come home. It had been a red flag, and she should have heeded the warning.

What boy, when given the choice, _chooses_ to be away from the girl he loves?

She should have known.


	8. Bleeding and Broken and Under Attack

Peyton hardly left her house after her fight and breakup with Lucas. She didn't want to believe it was over, but when he didn't call her to talk at all, she knew it was. He didn't seek her out or ask her to let him explain or apologize for the things he'd said.

So she had to resolve herself to the fact that he'd meant them.

He didn't want her anymore, and though he'd said he wasn't enough for her, she really and truly felt like she was the one who wasn't enough for him.

And the more she thought about it - which she'd essentially been doing non-stop since their fight - the more she realized that maybe she'd always felt that way. He was older, and a star basketball player. He was brilliant and funny and so attractive that a simple look from him could melt her heart. She really thought that maybe she never deserved him.

She needed to get out of Tree Hill. Just for a day. She needed to escape the temptation that was there to just walk over to Lucas' house and tell him she didn't mean it and he couldn't mean it either. That she loved him and she wanted him, and he'd promised her always.

She got dressed for really the first time in days, and she grabbed her keys, and she pretended she didn't know he'd hear that old car of hers start. He always said he could, and that was how he knew to be waiting outside for her.

She didn't know where she was going to go until she had driven out of the town. There was only one place to go, and she knew she'd be welcomed with open arms.

Nathan opened the door to his townhouse in Durham wearing just a pair of basketball shorts. She let herself briefly wonder why he wasn't wearing a shirt, then she remembered that he hated wearing shirts when he didn't have to. She always used to make fun of him for it.

"Peyton," he said in surprise. "Hi."

She didn't say anything in response. She just threw her arms around him and willed herself not to cry. She should have known it'd be futile.

She didn't even notice that he'd pulled her into the house and closed the door behind them, and when they were sitting on the sofa, he pushed her away from him a little bit.

"What's wrong?" he asked, though he was almost certain he knew the answer.

"I hate him," she said through her tears.

He almost smiled at her. He knew she was lying as much as she knew it. But he knew that feeling, too. Hating someone just because you love them and they make it so damn hard sometimes.

"What happened?"

"We broke up," she whispered, wiping her cheeks with the tissue he'd handed her.

"What!? When?" he asked hurriedly.

"Like, a week ago," she said as more tears fell.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He rest his hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting way. He hated to see her like this. He kind of hated Lucas for making her like this.

"Because at first I thought we'd work it out, but now...It's over."

"Come here," he said softly, pulling her into his arms again. "It'll be OK."

"What am I supposed to do now?" she asked, her face buried against his neck. "He's my best friend, and...I have to figure out how to let that go."

"He's just having a hard time right now," Nathan said, shaking his head as she pulled away from him again. "He'll realize he's made a mistake."

"I don't think so," she admitted quietly, looking down at her hands. "I think this is it, Nate."

"How come he didn't tell me when I went to see him on Wednesday?" Nathan asked in confusion. "Why wouldn't he say anything?"

"Because you're you," she said, shrugging one shoulder. "He knew how you'd be."

"You mean because I'm...protective over you," he said, delicately choosing his words.

"Something like that," she said as their eyes locked. "Yeah."

It took a lot to make Nathan Scott blush, but there was colour on his cheeks as soon as she'd said those words. She very rarely ever really acknowledged his feelings, other than an apology here or there for talking to him about her relationship with someone else. He didn't know if it was good or bad that he was so obviously transparent about it all. He didn't feel like he needed to hide anything from Peyton. She'd never held his feelings against him or told him that he shouldn't feel the way he did.

But he didn't want her going through the same thing. She wouldn't ever really fall out of love with Lucas. He didn't wish that on her.

"Can I stay?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he answered nervously. "Of course."

He got her a bottle of water and she lay down on his sofa, and he covered her over with a blanket. He dialed for a pizza and popped in his copy of Pulp Fiction, and she draped her legs over his as they ate and watched television, and neither of them said a word until well into the movie.

Even then, it was just useless banter to keep her mind off things.

They both froze when her phone rang, and when she pulled it from her bag, she breathed her relief when she saw that it was Brooke. She ignored the call. As much as she loved her friend for checking up on her so much since the breakup, she was going a little crazy with the twice daily calls.

Nathan stood sometime around midnight and pointed her in the direction of the stairs. He followed her, knowing that if Lucas knew she was there, he'd have a fit. But then, Nathan thought, if Lucas was the one breaking her heart and driving her away, then he didn't have a right to be angry with any of her choices.

And Nathan was just a friend. As much as he hated that sometimes, that was his role in all this. It had been his role for years. Maybe forever.

So he showed her to the guest room and flicked on the light, and when she looked at him with red-rimmed eyes and smiled, he hugged her again, just because he wanted to. She asked for something to sleep in, so he brought her a Duke tee shirt with his number on the back. He just smiled and shrugged his shoulders when she raised her brow at him.

He left her alone, telling her his room was just down the hall if she needed anything, and when she slipped into that tee shirt, she found herself liking that it smelled like him. It was familiar and comforting, and she needed that.

Nathan noticed her standing in his doorway wearing just that tee shirt sometime around 2:00 am. God, she looked amazing.

"Hi," she said in a small voice. "Can I...Can I sleep with you?"

He didn't say anything. He just moved over in his bed and pulled back the covers, and she walked over and lay down next to him.

"Thank you," she whispered. He could only nod.

She was on her side, looking at him as he lay there, completely unsure if he was doing the right thing. Part of him wanted to tell her to go back to Tree Hill and work it out because even though it killed him, even _he_ knew that Lucas and Peyton were meant to be together.

She moved closer to him and he instinctively wrapped his arm around her. It felt like it used to, but better somehow, though it definitely should have felt worse. She still didn't love him, and now they weren't even together; there wasn't even a promise that someday she might.

And when she kissed him, it took everything in him to push her away.

"Peyton..."

"Why? Why don't you want me?" she asked. The shaky tone of her voice let him know that it wasn't just about him. It probably wasn't about him at all.

"Baby, I _do_ want you. So bad. I...I always have," he said. He wasn't sure where the term of endearment came from, but he didn't care.

"You have me," she said simply. "I'm...Nathan..."

"Peyton, I don't have you. I never had you," he reminded her, shaking his head. "You don't want this."

"I want...I want something," she said. He pulled her close against him again, letting her rest her head on his chest and her hand over his heart.

"I know what you want," he said, and she closed her eyes. She knew what she wanted, too, and she was suddenly very aware that it wasn't the boy she was currently sharing a bed with.

"I wish it was you, Nathan," she whispered as she started to tear up again.

It was all he could do not to cry tears of his own. He loved her, and she didn't love him, but that wasn't what hurt him most. What hurt him most was that the one she loved wasn't man enough to love her back.

----

Peyton watched from the window of her upstairs hallway a week later when Lucas was hobbling on his crutches into Keith's truck. It was no secret, judging by the bags Keith was loading, that he was going back to school.

She moved away from the window just as he looked up to see her there.

He hadn't called her, and he hadn't talked to her, and though the lived mere yards from one another during that whole time, she'd never felt more far away from him.

She wondered if he knew that day would have been their one year anniversary.

She heard that old diesel truck pull away and she made a promise to herself not to let it consume her anymore. They were over, and he'd left, and none of it was going to change, so she'd move on. He was clearly going to, and so she would too.

She threw herself into her schooling and her job booking bands for Tric. She organized a massive benefit concert and CD release. She even contacted Haley and got one of her songs on the record. When that girl came to town for the concert, they hugged and caught up, but they didn't talk about that blonde boy. Peyton was thankful.

She worked so hard at school that she became one of the top students in her class. No one questioned the second-semester senior year push - no one worked _that_ hard at that point - and she was thankful for that, too.

The less she heard Lucas' name and had to talk about him, the better.

Keith and Karen understood it. They understood it well. They didn't bring him up unless she did. They knew when she needed an assurance that he was alright, or when she'd just slipped and mentioned a memory. They'd ask if she was alright, and she'd say she was, but all three of them knew she was lying.

She heard he was coming home for March Break. She had no idea what to expect, so she really just tried not to expect anything. She didn't even know the dates he would be home. She put it in the back of her mind and pretended she didn't care, though everyone had to have known she did care. A lot.

She was laying on her bed, wearing a little Ravens tank top and a pair of black shorts. It was definitely too cold for such attire, but she kept the house a little bit on the warm side, and she didn't care. She had blankets if she grew cold. She was listening to a new release, rewinding and replaying her favourite lyrics over and over again until she wanted to move on.

And that was when Lucas showed up in her doorway.

"Luke," she whispered. "Hi."

"Hey, Blondie," he said, smiling weakly and eyeing her choice of clothing.

"It's...warm in here," she explained lamely. He just smiled and nodded. "What...um...What?"

It sounded far harsher than she'd intended it too, and she knew he'd probably understand that he'd just caught her totally off guard. She wondered if it was his intention to walk in on her in comfortable clothes, no makeup, with her hair pulled up off her face.

"I just thought I'd say hi," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets like he'd always done when he was nervous. "See how you're doing."

"I'm fine."

"Yeah?" he asked, sensing something was off. He was sure it had everything to do with the fact that he'd just stopped by unannounced.

"Mhmm," she mumbled, looking right at him. "How are you?"

She sat up and moved aside, wordlessly inviting him to sit next to her. He did so without hesitation, very thankful that she wasn't kicking him out.

"I'm OK," he said with a shrug. "School's good and stuff."

"Good."

They were silent, because they'd lost their rhythm. It wasn't easy conversation, and she didn't really feel comfortable with him. He looked a little different - good different - and she wasn't sure what to make of it all. She wondered if she looked different to him, too.

"I miss you."

"What are you doing here?"

Their words overlapped, and she wanted to cry. Not only because those three words made her want to both love and hate him so furiously. Because she was sure they'd lost everything that had made them, _them_, and she wasn't sure they'd ever get it back, even if they tried.

She wasn't sure she wanted to try. She wasn't sure he wanted to try either.

"I miss you," he repeated, like it was the answer to her question.

"Luke..."

"I do. I...I'm trying to figure everything out, and...I just hate that I don't have you around anymore."

"Well, whose fault is that?" she asked, looking at him pointedly.

"I deserve that," he said softly, looking down at his hands.

"Yeah, you do," she said. "You didn't call me...at all...and now you show up here expecting..."

"I'm not expecting," he insisted, cutting her off. "I'm not expecting anything."

"Really?" she asked flatly. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him pointedly. "You didn't want me to just tell you that I miss you too?"

"Don't you?"

"That's...not the point," she muttered.

"Isn't it?" he asked.

"Luke..."

"Don't you miss me at all?" he asked, almost desperately.

"Of course I do," she almost whispered. "I...God, Luke, I miss everything about you, but I can't just forget about it all."

"I don't want you to. Just forget about how much of a jerk I was."

"Lucas," she said softly, shaking her head at him.

"I just want my best friend back, Peyt," he admitted. He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away.

"Your best friend?" she asked incredulously. "I haven't been your best friend in a long time, Luke."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is," she insisted. "It is. I'm...I can't do this."

Their eyes locked again, and before she could stop him, he'd leaned across the bed and pressed his lips to hers, immediately cradling the back of her head with his hand, just like he always used to do.

She moaned in surprise, then tried to push him away. He wouldn't budge, and his lips didn't leave hers, and eventually, her attempts to push him away became her hand clutching his shirt and pulling him on top of her.

She had missed this. She'd missed everything about him; she hadn't lied. She knew better than to just let it happen that way, but she'd never really been able to resist him, and she didn't really want to, and when his hand slipped into her shorts, she really didn't care about any of the rest of it.

She stopped questioning what it meant, and what he wanted, and more importantly, what she wanted.

She just kissed him.

It wasn't until afterward, when he was laying with a guilty look on his face, and she was clutching her blankets to her chest like she didn't want him to see her, that they both realized they'd probably just made a huge mistake.

"What are we doing?" she asked. Her words were buried in a sigh, and she closed her eyes.

"I don't know."

"What do you want from me?" She turned on her side to look at him, and he was in awe a little of how beautiful she looked. He felt like he'd maybe always taken it for granted.

"I don't know," he admitted quietly.

"Sex?" she asked bitterly. "That's all you came for, isn't it?"

"No!" he very nearly yelled. "No Peyton, you're...No."

"What, Luke? I'm more to you than that? Isn't that what you said last time?" she asked. She stood from the bed, pulling the sheet off in one fell swoop and wrapping it around herself.

"I meant it then," he said seriously.

"But not now?"

"Of course, now," he insisted, shaking his head at her. "I still...I don't want us to grow apart."

"Grow apart!?" she shouted. "You _broke up _with me."

"_You_ broke up with _me_!" he told her, sitting up in her bed.

"You made it easy," she spat. "God, Lucas, you...You broke my heart. And it's still broken. And you coming in here and saying that you want your _friend_ back? That's not going to fix me."

"What will?" he asked seriously.

"I don't know. I don't...I'm not sure it's you at all," she admitted quietly. He shook his head and went to speak, but she wouldn't let him. She knew he would call her on the lie she'd just said, and she didn't want to deal with it. "You should go."

"Peyton..."

"Just go," she pleaded. "Please. I...I really can't do this." She stepped towards the bathroom, turning to look at him over her shoulder. "Don't be here when I come out."

He wasn't. He left as soon as he was dressed, and he had the intense feeling that nothing would ever be the same with her again. And that shattered his already broken heart.

So he just went home, lay on his bed, and tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do without her. He'd been trying to come up with an answer since she walked out of that room that day in December.

He kept coming up blank.

----

When Nathan walked into Peyton's bedroom that evening to find her holding onto an ancient-looking brown teddy bear, he knew something was wrong. Then he saw the tears in her eyes.

He knew what that 'something' must have been. He knew Lucas was home.

"Hi," he said softly, brushing the hair from her face once he was seated next to her.

"Hi."

"You OK?"

"I look OK?" she asked haughtily. He raised his brow, almost like a warning, and she closed her eyes and sighed. "Sorry."

"What's going on?" he asked worriedly.

"Nothing."

"Peyton," he said admonishingly. "What?"

"He came over," she admitted.

"Oh. Well...that's good, right?"

He thought it should have been. She'd pined over the guy for months, crying Lord knows how many tears, and he'd finally come to fight for her. Or so Nathan thought.

"He said he wants his friend back," she told him, watching as he closed his eyes and shook his head. "Yeah."

"That's it?" he asked.

"Sort of," she said. She wouldn't meet his eyes, and he used his index finger to tip her head so she had to look at him. "We..."

"Tell me - _please_ tell me - he didn't sleep with you," he said forcefully.

"It was...it just happened," she said softly.

He let out a bitter laugh and shook his head as he stood. He started pacing, and she sat up in her bed. She didn't know what he was so upset about. It wasn't his heart being pulled in a hundred different directions.

But, she thought, it kind of was.

"Are you kidding me? What the hell are you thinking?" Nathan asked.

"What do you want me to say, Nathan?" she asked angrily. "I'm in love with him. I can't change that."

"You don't think I fucking know how that feels?" he shouted. "Peyton...I understand that, OK? I get it. _He's_ the one who doesn't."

"I didn't ask you to fall in love with me!"

"No," he said, laughing bitterly. "But you're asking him, and look how that's working out."

Her jaw dropped and she narrowed her eyes at him. She'd never heard him say something so awful to her.

And maybe she'd never heard him say anything so true, either.

"I can't help it," she said softly.

"Neither can I," he told her.

"So what now?"

"I don't know, Peyton," he answered, shrugging one shoulder. "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

"What? Be...be friends with me?" she asked softly, tears filling her eyes. "Why not?"

"Could you be friends with Luke if he was in love with someone else and you couldn't do anything about it? You can't even be friends with him now." His eyes met hers and it killed him to see her crying and not be able to console her.

He just couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Nathan, I don't...I'm sorry."

"I know," he said honestly. "But...that doesn't help me."

She didn't say anything more. She didn't know what to say. She just watched him with sad eyes as he walked out of her bedroom. She knew he wasn't coming back. That was it.

----

Nathan stormed into Lucas' bedroom, only to find the blonde boy the same way he'd found the blonde girl. Minus the tears, that is, though he was almost certain that there had been a few shed.

"If you don't want her, don't treat her like you do," Nathan insisted harshly. "She doesn't deserve that." Lucas opened his mouth to speak, but Nathan wouldn't let him. "And if that's what you're doing, then _you_ don't deserve _her_."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about," Lucas said, rising from the bed.

"Don't I?" Nathan challenged. "You don't know what you're doing to her. She's a mess because of you. You've hurt her enough!"

"Save the knight in shining armor act, Nate."

"You know what? Someone has to step up for her. It clearly hasn't been you," Nathan said angrily. "You've led her on long enough. You think I don't know all the details, but I do. I'm the one she cries to every time you hurt her! And now you sleep with her, then you throw her away?"

"You're jealous," Lucas said, as though he was just realizing it. "You wanted it to be you."

"I wanted it to be someone who wasn't going to break her heart and not even bat an eye."

"I didn't mean to," Lucas said lamely, shaking his head in shame.

"Well, you did. So congratulations. You win," Nathan said. "You got the girl. The girl wants you. Now get the fuck over yourself and figure out if you want her back."

He didn't say anything more. He just turned his back to his brother and walked out of the room.

Lucas had a feeling Nathan wouldn't be coming back. All those years of brotherly camaraderie, all thrown away.

And all over a girl that they both loved. All over a girl that neither was entirely certain they could have.

----

Peyton cried the rest of the day after her fight with Nathan, though she was sure she would have done it anyway. Everything felt different from that point on. It was like an automatic shift, and everything went out of balance, and she had to struggle to keep herself steady.

She'd lost Nathan, and she'd lost Lucas, and when neither of them called her before they left town, she wondered how and when everything got so damn confusing.

She assumed it was around the time one brother fell for her, she fell for the other brother, and they all ended up with broken hearts as a result of it.

Lucas mailed her a letter the following week. He apologized for everything that had happened, and he said how much he hated that he'd hurt her, and that maybe they really did need the time apart. _'The space to find ourselves'_, he'd written. He said he still wanted her, but he didn't know what that meant, and he didn't know if he could be what she needed him to be. He told her to go out into the world and be great.

And that felt a lot like him letting her go.

She wanted to throw that letter away, but she just couldn't do it. She put it into a drawer with all her other important papers, and it landed atop acceptance letters from three universities.

She took those papers out and she sat on her bed with her legs crossed, and she looked at her options, the crests of each school staring back at her. Each had their advantages and disadvantages. Two of them had boys she didn't know were pros or cons. Pulls or pushes. Reasons to go or reasons to stay away.

Two boys. Two shades of blue.

She decided on the University of Virginia.


	9. You and I Were Supposed to Grow Old

It was beautiful, that university she went to. She found an apartment just off campus, and as soon as she settled her things, she smiled to herself. It could use a little paint, but it would be great. It would be home for the next four years.

It took everything in her not to call Nathan and tell him all about it.

It took even more not to call Lucas.

But all that was in the past. All that was done. She was a new person. A young woman. Lucas had told her to find herself, and so she was going to. She had her own apartment, and she'd decided to grow her hair out, and she wasn't a cheerleader anymore, and she'd just had a summer with her best friend.

Brooke had visited Tree Hill and lived with Peyton for a few months after some serious begging with her parents. The brunette was off to fashion school in New York the fall, and the Davis' basically handed her off, telling her that if she needed money, she knew their number.

The two girls had a great summer. They lounged at the beach and enjoyed their last moments of being 'kids'. The way they saw it, as soon as they landed at school, they were young adults. As much as they'd always loved to say they were grown up, and act like they were grown up, they knew what was coming next was going to be very different.

Brooke insisted that Peyton go on dates, so she did. And she had fun. She had a little summer fling that lasted all of two weeks while the boy, named Chris, was in town on vacation. She had a blast with him. He was a struggling musician, and he'd sing silly songs with her name thrown in, little lines here or there about her hair or her hips or the way her lips tasted (like sweet tea and raspberries, apparently). They didn't sleep together, and when she said it wouldn't happen, she was surprised when he said that he was fine with it. He told her that he wasn't that kind of guy, and she looked at him like he was lying until he picked her up and dropped her into the water.

They kept in touch after he left, but they both knew it'd never be anything more than just those two weeks that one summer. She was fine with that. He wasn't her forever.

For the first time in a long time, though, she really didn't know who was.

And that was alright She was young. She wasn't supposed to know. The boys she dated in high school were supposed to break their promises and her heart and leave her to heal it on her own. That was the way things went. No one meets their soul mate when they're basically children. No one marries the boy they draw pictures for, or their first kiss or their first time. That doesn't happen.

Does it?

No matter, she was...moving on. She wasn't over it, though she wished she could say she was. But that's life, she thought. You move on. Maybe you never get over it. Maybe it stays there. But you can push it aside eventually, and it doesn't sting every time you hear his name, and you don't hate him so much for being the one to hurt you so badly.

And she was getting there.

She stepped into her apartment one day in October after a day of full classes, and she saw that the red light on her answering machine was blinking. She hit play as she dropped her things and sorted through her mail (mostly bills, and a flyer for a party she wouldn't be going to) and Brooke's voice filled the room.

"You'll _never_ guess who I just ran into! You want to guess?...NO! You're wrong. Because there's no way you'd be right." Peyton could only laugh at her best friend's enthusiasm. "Chris!! He said he's got a showcase or something? Anyway, it's at some dingy little bar, but I feel like I should go. You think I should go? Call me back. Oh! And I sent you a shirt. I designed it. It's fabulous. Thank me later."

Peyton wasn't surprised, three weeks later, when Brooke called and rambled very worriedly, asking if it was alright if she and Chris got together, given the history and the situation. Peyton could only laugh and say that it was fine and that she just wanted Brooke to be happy. The brunette let out a sigh of relief and when Peyton asked for details of how everything evolved, Brooke was quick to give them.

Peyton realized that she never really got to have that part of a relationship. The beginning when it's all talking and getting to know one another properly and kissing and not much else. She'd dated Nathan, who she'd known for a long time and knew almost everything about, and she dated Lucas who she'd known forever and actually did know everything about.

She thought it might be time to get that part of a relationship. She thought she might be ready for it.

She didn't expect to find it the way she did.

She was walking through town one day past a little row of shops, and she thought she'd forgotten her wallet, so she hastily started searching through her bag as she walked.

And she tripped over a sandwich board and landed on her side, her forearms bracing her fall, the sign over her legs and the contents of her bag scattered on the sidewalk. Turned out she hadn't forgotten her wallet. It was laying near a potted plant a few feet away.

"Are you OK?" a voice asked, kneeling at her side. He lifted the sandwich board up and set it aside. "That kind of jumped out at you, huh?"

"I'm so embarrassed," she said softly.

"Don't worry about it," he said, helping gather her things. "I had a run in with a lamp post the other night. Came at me out of nowhere."

She laughed and looked over at him, and she noticed he was actually kind of cute. Brown hair and brown eyes and a kind smile. He wore his messenger bag slung over his shoulder, and he had on a pair of well-worn jeans and a simple brown v-neck sweater over a white button down.

"Thank you," she said, taking her notepad and cell phone from him and dropping them into her bag. She tried to stand, but she couldn't put any weight on her left foot, and she hissed in pain.

"Whoa." He looped his arm under hers and helped her, ensuring she didn't fall again. "Easy."

"It's my ankle," she told him.

"You might have sprained it," he pointed out worriedly, looking down at her foot. "It's swelling a little. Come on. Let's get you to the medical center."

"It's fine. Really. I'll just ice it," she said, shaking her head.

"No way," he insisted. "You might need to get it wrapped or something."

"I can wrap it."

"You're kind of stubborn, you know that?" he asked with a laugh.

"I've heard that before." He chuckled, then she winced when she turned her foot a certain way, and he raised his brow at her. He smiled when she rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll go to the medical center."

He didn't leave her side, and he was still helping her walk. She liked his strong arm holding her up, but she wasn't sure why he was doing it. She didn't even know his name. She was too nervous to ask. She had a little bit of a tingly feeling when his hand cupped her elbow and he smiled at her. He took her bag from her, and she smiled back.

"What would I have done if you hadn't been around?" she asked, and he let out a chuckle that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I dunno. I think that sandwich board would have given you a run for your money."

"Funny," she said, her eyes narrowed as she looked over at him. He just laughed again. She liked that laugh.

They walked through the door to the medical center, and she was ushered away with one final thank you to the kind stranger who'd helped her.

She realized she still didn't know who he was or where he'd come from, and thinking of all that was actually a nice distraction from the pain of having her ankle wrapped tightly by a nurse who may very well have been 75 years old and partially blind.

She really didn't know why she didn't say anything to him on the walk over. Other than just a little small talk or the occasional whining about her ankle hurting and her scraped arm, she didn't say much.

Imagine her surprise when she stepped back into the waiting room after about forty minutes and he was still sitting there, leafing through an old National Geographic. She had a large bandage on her arm and a tensor bandage around her ankle, and she was kind of in shock.

"All better?" he asked with a grin.

"Yeah. Fantastic," she mumbled, holding up the crutch she'd been given to walk with. He smiled and winked at her, taking her bag from her again.

She was really, really glad he was still there. And that he was cute. And that he was so helpful.

She thought she might like him. A lot. And she didn't know a thing about him.

"So, you waited," she said as they stepped outside again.

"I did."

"How come? You could have left. You probably should have. Don't you have someplace to be?" she said quickly. She was nervous, she realized.

"No. I'm kind of like Peter Parker," he said, and she tilted her head and raised a brow. "Except that I definitely don't have any other powers. You've pretty much seen all that I have to offer."

"Come on. I'm serious," she said pleadingly as they both laughed.

"I just wanted to spend more time with you." He shrugged one shoulder and looked to the ground, or he would have seen her smile and bite her bottom lip. "You're kind of gorgeous."

"Oh...uh...thanks."

"You're welcome," he said, turning to grin at her. "I'm Julian."

"Peyton."

"I know," he said and she looked at him questioningly. "I bribed the receptionist back there to tell me."

"That's...creepy," she said with a laugh.

"Well, you didn't tell me, so..."

"You didn't tell me yours either," she shot back, and he almost blushed. "Well, Julian, let me buy you a cup of coffee. To thank you for being a skinny Peter Parker."

"I'm not skinny!"

"You're skinny," she argued, leaving no room for rebuttal.

"Wait till you see what's under the shirt," he said slyly.

She felt the colour rush to her cheeks, and she wanted to call him on his bravado, but she really couldn't. She kind of did want to see what was under the shirt. He wasn't wrong to assume that she would.

"Coffee sounds great, Peyton," he said, gently touching the small of her back as they walked down the sidewalk.

Well, coffee turned into a two hour conversation at the coffee shop, then dinner at a nearby restaurant, then a drink at the pub near her apartment.

By the end of it all, she had a massive crush on the guy. He was a freshman, and when she said that she was thankful, that she'd had her fill of older guys, he didn't question what that meant. He was a media studies major with a minor in film, and he was originally from New York, but went to Virginia solely because it would piss off his father. He was funny and clever and smart. And she _liked_ him.

He walked her to her door and she wanted to kiss him, but he didn't ask and he didn't make the move. He asked if she was busy that Friday night, and she smiled when she shook her head. He told her he was taking her to a midnight screening of One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest at an old theater in town, and she told him to pick her up early so they could hang out beforehand.

Two weeks after that, she saw what was under the shirt.

----

He was sitting on her sofa in mid-January, watching television while she made dinner, when she heard a name that made her drop her wooden spoon and walk towards the television.

_"Lucas Scott, the only student assistant coach ever at Yale, has helped coach the Bulldogs to a 10-3 season after tearing his ACL last year in a game vs. Cornell. Scott says he definitely misses playing, and while he'll participate in drills with the team from time to time, his knee still isn't 100%..." _

"So...That's Lucas," Julian said, looking at the video on the screen, essentially a highlights package of some of Lucas' best plays.

"That's him," she said softly, heading back to the kitchen.

"He's OK, I guess. I mean, if you like the rugged, athletic, attractive, Ivy-league type," he said, and he smiled when he heard her laugh from the kitchen.

Before he knew it, she was standing behind him at the sofa and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She leaned down and kissed his cheek before she started speaking softly.

"I like the reformed-nerd, movie loving, boy band listening-to, sweet, sexy, sarcastic type."

"Yeah? Maybe someday you'll find him," he said teasingly, laughing when she gently slapped his cheek.

She went back to work on their dinner, but her head was spinning just a little bit, thrown for a loop. She and Lucas had been apart for a year. They hadn't spoken in almost as long. There was a time in her life that she never thought that would have been possible. Actually, the majority of her life, she never thought that would have been possible.

He'd been such a big part of her life for so long that it made her a little sad to think that he wasn't a part of it at all anymore. It kind of hit her all at once, and when her boyfriend was sitting on the sofa not 25 feet away, that probably wasn't the best thing.

She had to will herself not to cry.

She hated that she still cared so much.

She didn't want to think about him. At all. She didn't want to be pulled towards the source of the information. She didn't want to be proud at him for finding a love in coaching. She didn't want to wonder if he was really OK with not playing.

She sure as hell didn't want to wonder if he was single or not.

"I still can't believe you dated brothers," Julian laughed from his place, pulling her from her thoughts.

And then she started thinking about Nathan, too.

----

Lucas' year at Yale wasn't exactly what he thought it'd be. He thought it'd be all NBA scouts and hoping to go high in the draft once he'd graduated. He thought it'd be all professors, games and battling for playoff position. He thought it'd be all him following the path he'd always been on, and finally being able to say he was making his dream come true.

But that path he'd always been on had definitely changed. There was a time when it was just ball. Play ball, make it to the NBA. Then there was a time it was ball and Peyton.

Well, he didn't have ball, not the way he used to, and he didn't have Peyton at all.

One he had no control over, and the other was entirely his fault.

One he still had a piece of, one he had nothing left of.

Ball was starting to look really, really insignificant by comparison.

He missed her. Every day. Everything reminded him of her, and he wanted to just call her but he knew she wouldn't want him to. When he'd gone home at Christmas and she wasn't there, Larry explained that he was visiting her in Charlottesville. He was going to visit her and meet her boyfriend.

He had no idea his heart could be broken any more, but that word certainly accomplished it. She'd moved on. She had someone new. She had a boyfriend.

Well, he didn't want to move on. He didn't want to be with anyone but her. He may have been too stupid to see it before, but he could see it now, and he wasn't going to waste any time. But he'd told her to live her life and find what she was meant to do, and so he'd let her do it.

He'd just hope that her life led her back to him. If it didn't, he'd just alter his path again and go from there. It wasn't like he'd never done it before...

He knew damn well that altering his path to one that didn't include her would be a hell of a lot harder than he was even preparing himself for.

He hadn't dated anyone since that summer. He'd met a girl who was a junior editor at the publishing house he worked for, and they started seeing one another. That was what she'd called it. Seeing one another. She was a few years older than him, and it was a bitter taste of his own medicine.

It wasn't exactly the same, but she was older, and she had different priorities and obligations, and he felt like he could understand what Peyton must have felt when they were together.

She called it off, telling him she simply needed to date a man, not a boy. That would have bothered him if he hadn't concurred. It wasn't that he was a child, and she explained as much. She was simply at a different phase in her life.

He didn't date anyone after that. He knew it wasn't worth it. He knew who he was meant to be with.

There were a million words he wanted to say to Peyton. He wrote them all down and saved them in a file on his computer. He was sure she'd never see them, but he knew they were there. Maybe someday he'd get a chance to tell her even a few of those things that he felt he needed to say. That he hoped she needed to hear.

----

When Duke visited Peyton's school late in the season for a basketball game, she knew she had to go.

She dug out that blue tee shirt - one that felt far older than it really was - and she pulled it over her head, turning in front of the mirror to see that name and the number 23 on the back.

Julian didn't want to go. He wasn't a big basketball fan; baseball was 'his' sport. And he told her that he couldn't be seen walking with her wearing the enemy colours. He lay on her bed doing homework, and she told him that she might see if she could catch up with Nathan after the game. He scowled at her when she said _don't wait up_, and she walked back towards him and kissed the sour expression off his face.

She heard jeers as she made her way to the stadium, and a boy in a Duke jersey who'd had far too much to drink hit on her. She just laughed it off and told him to have a good night, and he started chanting_ Let's Go Blue Devils _as she walked away.

She was excited. It'd been far too long since she'd seen Nathan play. It'd been far too long since she'd spoken to him. She wanted him back in her life. She wondered if he'd finally moved on. She realized how awful it had been of her to hang onto him so tightly all those years, when she wasn't in love with him and he was in love with her. It hadn't been fair. She knew now that every time she'd gone to him for comfort, he'd seen that as something to give him hope. That hadn't been right. She knew she didn't have to apologize to him, but she still wanted to see him.

She wanted her friend back.

She'd followed his stats a little bit, and she knew he was being called one of the best to ever wear the uniform. She was so proud of him.

Especially when he led his team to a 75-68 victory while she was in the stands. She hung around afterward, hoping to run into him - but not appear like she was a groupie - and when he stepped back into the gym, he smiled and shook his head in complete confusion.

"Well, well," she said, putting a hand on her hip. "Nathan Scott."

"Nice shirt," he managed. He was still shaking his head until he pulled her into a tight hug, just like the ones he used to give. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I go here. I had to come watch the game," she said with a shrug. She wondered why he hadn't expected her to show.

"Wow," he whispered. "That's crazy."

"How are you!?" she cried, swatting his chest.

"Good! Great, now," he said. Her heart sank. She didn't want him to say things like that. She wanted him to be over her. "I missed you, Sawyer."

"You could have called," she told him. He pursed his lips and nodded. "But I could have called too, so...we both suck."

"I can't believe you're here," he insisted. He led her to the seats at the side of the court and they sat down.

"I can't believe you're even bigger! God, Nathan. Lay off the weights," she said with a laugh, knowing that he would do no such thing. "So really. How are you? What's been going on?"

"I'm good, you know? Just playing my ass off, trying to get another championship and show well for the scouts."

"They're saying you're going to go within the top 5 next year," she pointed out, and he raised his brow. "What? I watch ESPN sometimes."

Something about the way she said it, just a little quiet and not looking at him, made him believe that she was leaving something out. Truthfully, it wasn't her who put the television on the sports channels...

"Since when?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Since...whenever!" she said, and they both laughed. "So come on. Girlfriend!?"

"Um...yeah, actually," he said, smiling boyishly and nodding his head a little.

"What? Tell me about her!" He laughed at how excited she was.

"You might remember her, actually. Name's Haley James."

"Get out!" she cried, wide-eyed, swatting his arm. "Since _when_!?"

"Since the summer. I went to a development camp in L.A. and ran into her," he explained. "We kind of hit it off, and...we've been together since. She lives with me when she's not on tour."

"I can't believe that! That's amazing, Nate," she said sincerely.

"So how's Luke?" he asked after a moment.

"What?" She looked at him in complete shock and confusion, and he looked at her the same way. "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"I haven't talked to Lucas in...a long time," he admitted.

"How long?" Her brow was knit, and he realized, maybe for the first time, how far they'd all drifted apart.

"About a year."

"What? Why?"

"Peyton, what was the one thing Lucas and I always had in common?" he asked. "Besides Dan and basketball."

She closed her eyes and let out a sigh.

"Me."

"Yeah," he said quietly.

"You cut him out because of...everything?" she asked, shaking her head.

"Yeah. I really didn't think you would," he admitted.

"I haven't spoken to him since...that day," she said softly.

"Well, that's stupid."

"What?"

"Peyton, it's _Lucas_. It's _you_ and Lucas," he reminded her.

"But you said I..."

"When the hell have you ever listened to me?" he asked, making her roll her eyes and smile. "Peyton, this is crazy. You two are..."

"Nothing," she interrupted. "We're nothing. And I have a boyfriend."

"What?" he asked quickly. "Why?"

"What kind of question is that?" She intended it as a joke. He didn't take it as one.

"Why are you so blind? It's always you and Lucas, Peyton," he said.

She closed her eyes for a moment.

Always.

That promise they'd made each other. It was what they were supposed to have.

She wondered when it was that they really lost sight of that.

"Do you love him?" he asked. Her eyes opened quickly and she looked over at him. "I meant your boyfriend. Not Luke. But I think I got my answer."

There was a smug smile on his face that she hated, and she really wished she hadn't just given herself away.

No, she didn't love Julian.

And what had hit her hard, had come in a quick rush and taken hold of her, was that she wouldn't love him.

Because she loved Lucas.

_Always. _


	10. The Worst is Over

Keith and Karen got engaged on a Saturday morning in August, the summer after Peyton's first year at school.

She'd stayed in Charlottesville that summer. She got a job as a receptionist at a little indie record label, and she wore jeans and tee shirts to her office and answered phones and sorted mail. It wasn't much, but it was enough for a college student. It paid her pills and rent, and it kept her busy, and she liked the people she worked with.

She broke up with Julian only a couple weeks after seeing Nathan. She was really only holding up her end of the bargain. A bargain that shouldn't have been so easy to make.

She made Nathan promise to repair his relationship with Lucas. He said he would on one condition; that she evaluate her relationship with the boyfriend, and end it if she still had feelings for Lucas.

And they both knew she still had feelings for Lucas.

Julian was a little shocked, mostly because he hadn't seen it coming. OK, he was a lot shocked because it came - to him - absolutely out of nowhere. He asked if it had anything to do with anyone with the last name Scott, and she could only shrug her shoulders. It did, of course. With both Nathan and Lucas. Lucas was the one she loved, and Nathan was the one who made her see it.

Julian's parting words were, "I'm not Nathan. I won't hang around. This is it."

She just shrugged her shoulders and he made his way to the door. She didn't cry when he left. He had been a stand in, and she hated that, but it was true. She just hadn't realized it.

So she worked her job and lived her life, and she just waited. She wasn't sure what she was waiting for, but she didn't want to force anything.

She kept in close contact with Nathan. His team had just narrowly lost out in the title game to Gonzaga. He was busy with working out, going to another development camp, working with his agent and a bunch of handlers, since he was such a highly-projected draft pick. But he made time about three times a week to talk on the phone with her. Every time they spoke, he'd ask if she'd called Lucas yet, and her answer was always the same.

No.

She'd tried once. Well, she had gone out for drinks with her coworkers and had one too many margaritas, and she'd dialed six digits of his number. She caught a burst of sobriety and closed her phone before she could complete the call.

She just wanted to let it happen. She didn't want to make the first move. If they were meant to be like everyone kept saying, then they'd come together naturally.

When Karen called her and told her of the engagement, Peyton's response was a very happy, "It's about time!" Karen put Keith on the line, and Peyton told him she was proud of him for finally making an 'honest woman' out of Karen. They all chuckled at that.

Karen asked Peyton if she'd be her maid of honour, and both women cried.

"Your mom would have been if she were still with us, so it's only fitting," Karen explained. That only made them cry harder.

"I'd love to," Peyton managed.

"You should know who the best man is..." Karen started.

"I kind of figured," Peyton whispered. "But...it's fine. It's you guys. Lucas and I...we'll be fine."

"I think you will be."

Peyton wasn't sure what that meant, but it almost sounded like Karen was smiling.

Either way, the second weekend in October, she'd find out if they'd be fine, or if they'd be more than fine, or if Karen knew something Peyton didn't.

----

Nathan strolled into Lucas' bedroom in Tree Hill without knocking. He'd just talked to Peyton, and she'd acted like she didn't care that Nathan was going to be spending the day with his brother - Lucas and Nathan were almost back to the way they used to be - but he knew she cared. She cared a lot.

"Luke! Dude, come on! Haley and I have a dinner reservation, so I can't play forever," Nathan said.

"Alright! Damn. Give me one minute," Lucas said, typing something on his laptop.

"Tell me you're emailing her," Nathan demanded.

"Give it a rest, Nathan," Lucas groaned. "No. I'm not. And I'm not going to."

"Your mistake."

"My life," Lucas shot back.

"A life that would be happier if you just told her that you still love her," Nathan argued. "But whatever. Let's go to the gym, alright? Get your surgically repaired knee in motion."

"Had to throw it in there, didn't you?" Lucas asked, squinting at his brother. Nathan just shrugged and they both laughed a little bit.

Nathan had been helping Lucas work on getting his game back to the level it was before his injury. He'd been playing for a while, but nothing too intense. He'd been told that if he came back to school for his senior year in game shape, then he'd have a real shot at a spot in the lineup again. He was pretty thankful that he and Nathan had rebuilt their relationship, and them working out together was just one of the reasons.

He knew, obviously, that Nathan was in pretty constant contact with Peyton. Nathan didn't stop talking about Lucas getting in touch with Peyton. He'd leave her address posted on Lucas' desk, or text him her phone number. Nathan was not the most subtle guy.

But it took a lot of strength not to call her or mail her or, hell, even text her.

It simply wasn't the way he wanted them to reconnect.

And they would reconnect. He was sure of it.

Of course, when Karen and Keith told him about their engagement, Lucas was happy for several reasons.

Perhaps most notably, Peyton would be coming home.

----

"Why am I doing this!?" Peyton shouted into the phone.

"Because it's Karen, and she's like a...sorry, what are we on? Third now? A third mother do you?" Brooke asked.

"Funny," Peyton mumbled. "I know, but..."

"But you'll have to see Lucas and get back together with him and live happily ever after and have babies and happiness," Brooke filled in. "Tragic, really."

"You're not helping me."

"What do you want me to say?" Brooke asked with a laugh. "Peyton, you _want_ to be with him. Just _be_ with him already."

"It's not really that simple, Brooke," Peyton insisted. She was looking through her closet, thinking of what to throw into her suitcase.

"Because you're so damn set on making it difficult," Brooke said. Peyton scoffed, and Brooke could practically see her put a hand on her hip. "If you love him, then...what's the damn holdup?"

"Let's see. Where to start?" Peyton said pensively. "He breaks my heart, I'm just getting over it and we sleep together, only to have him tell me he wants to be friends."

"You ever think that wasn't what he was saying, that was just what you heard?" Brooke interrupted. "And it's not like that little romp wasn't consensual."

"Whatever. The point is, he's still two years older, he's still living there, I'm still living here. He's graduating and doing God knows what," Peyton listed off. "I just don't know."

"Right."

"Don't 'right' me, OK?" Peyton said with a laugh. "I don't know if it's the right timing."

"Yeah. That makes sense," Brooke said sarcastically. "It's better to wait until the end of time when it's too late and he's married and daddy to someone else's kids." The line went quiet, and Peyton's knees almost buckled. "Exactly. That's not what you want."

"I don't like it when you're right," Peyton mumbled.

"I know. But deal with it," Brooke said, and they both laughed. "Pack your things, drive out there, and just see what happens. He's single, so the worst thing that happens is you have a great one night stand, and go from there."

"I'm not going to sleep with him."

"Yeah. You say that now," Brooke scoffed. "Wait until you see him in a suit and tie, looking all sexy, and you're all emotional from the wedding, and he comes up and tells you that you look beautiful. Which you will, by the way, in that dress I designed for you. Then you'll be caving like...whatever it is that caves."

"Whatever. I have to pack. Wish me luck," Peyton said, shaking her head.

She couldn't say that the thought of Lucas telling her she looked beautiful was an awful thing.

"OK. Go. Have fun. Give them my congratulations," Brooke insisted. "And use protection."

She barely got the last words out when Peyton hung up the phone, laughing as she did so.

She told herself, as she packed those jeans that made her legs look a little longer and the sweater that was a little more low cut than usual, that she wasn't dressing for Lucas. She just wanted to look nice for the wedding and the festivities that surrounded it. If Lucas happened to be there and thought she looked nice, well that was only a perk.

She wasn't naive enough to think that was really true, but she was in enough denial that she didn't really have to admit it to herself, either.

----

Tree Hill felt a hell of a lot smaller to her as she pulled her car past the city limits sign. Nothing there had changed, and it was perhaps silly of her to think that it would have. It had been just barely a year since she'd been there.

But _she_ had changed.

She wasn't the heartbroken teenager. She wasn't the girl who was one half of a friendship that everyone in the town thought would eventually be a marriage. She wasn't the girl who could always be seen with one or both of the Scott brothers. She hadn't been that girl in a long time.

She did kind of miss being that girl, though. Minus the heartbreak part.

And as she walked from her car into the quiet house - her dad wasn't coming home until the day of the wedding - she realized that it was still home. All those family photos on the mantle and the same furniture and the same smell that was always there. A little bit of her dad and a little bit of her. And always a little bit of her mom, too. She loved that.

She set her bags just inside the door, and she went on a little tour of the place she hadn't realized she'd missed so much.

She strolled through the kitchen and saw a note from her dad, telling her there was money in 'the secret money spot', just like he'd always told her when she was younger and left on her own. The secret money spot was an old ice cream container in the back of the freezer that she could delve into for groceries or emergencies.

She stepped into the backyard, happy to see that her dad hadn't changed much. The little patio set was still in the same place, and the little garden was still tended to.

And that board in the fence was still loose, and she smiled. She wondered, since that old fence hadn't changed in all that time, then maybe the two kids who'd used that as their secret passageway for so many years weren't so different either.

The rehearsal dinner wasn't for a couple days, but she wasn't about to wait to go see Keith and Karen. She just couldn't bring herself to step through the fence yet. It wasn't that it felt wrong, it just didn't feel very right, either.

She grabbed a sweater from inside the house, and then started walking around the block. She stopped, though, on the porch of the Roe/Scott home, and she took a seat on the swing. She really didn't know why it was all so hard. It had been a long time since she and Lucas broke up, but it all still felt really fresh. She thought that might have been because they were never really supposed to break up at all.

And something Brooke said to her a few days earlier kept replaying in her head. Maybe he hadn't been asking her to be his friend. Maybe he was just asking if he could have _her_ back. They'd never really, honestly been just friends. Maybe it was her who messed up their relationship, just as much as it was him.

She was lost in thought for a little while, and she didn't notice that Karen had come outside until the woman sat down next to her.

They chatted for a while in the chilly fall air on the porch. Peyton deduced that Lucas was home, and Karen didn't want there to be any discomfort. She was so thankful that Karen knew her so well and was so accommodating. They all had to know that the wedding might get a little awkward, but Peyton certainly didn't want it to be. It was Karen and Keith's day - finally - and Peyton didn't want her petty romantic drama to get in the way of that.

And she realized that it was indeed petty. Of course, it was a big deal, but she realized, really, that it wasn't anything she and Lucas could have worked out if one or both of them hadn't been so stubborn.

She went home, and Nathan and Haley came over for a casual dinner. It was always nice for Peyton to see the couple together. She thought they were pretty much perfect for each other, actually. They spent the evening swapping stories and talking, and when Haley said they should have invited Lucas to the 'reunion', too, Peyton just rolled her eyes when Nathan froze.

"It's fine, Nate," she insisted.

"Really? Because you're like, 400 feet away from him, and you haven't even gone to say hello," he said.

"It's complicated."

"You're stubborn," he shot back.

"You two are hilarious," Haley interjected. "Seriously like brother and sister. I mean, now that he's not in love with you anymore."

"Thanks, babe," Nathan said. Haley shrugged her shoulders and leaned over to kiss him. Peyton thought it was pretty great that things like that could be said and no one got uncomfortable.

"I'm calling him," Haley said, reaching for her phone.

"No!" Peyton shouted. Nathan smirked and Haley rolled her eyes. "Just...let us figure it out on our own."

"That would require talking," Nathan pointed out.

"We will!"

"Sometime soon?" Haley asked.

"I've been here like, a matter of hours. It'll happen," Peyton promised.

After Nathan and Haley left that evening, Peyton wondered why she had waited so long.

She got sick of sitting around alone - something she usually loved doing - and thought she'd take a walk and clear her head.

She was at the River Court within 20 minutes.

She surprised herself by not running in the opposite direction when she saw that he was there. But she thought it was better that way. They could talk without everyone's expectations and stares following them. They could have that first probably sort of awkward conversation without worrying or having to give detailed reports of it to their friends and family.

"Peyton," he almost whispered. He smiled when she waved subtly. "Hi."

"Hi," she said, stepping towards him. He spun the ball in his hands and they stood there for a moment, trying to figure out where to go from there.

"I heard you pull in today," he said, and they both smiled. He could always hear that old car of hers.

"I was going to come by. Actually, I did, but..."

"I know," he said softly. He wasn't just saying that he knew she came by, he was saying that he knew why she hadn't gone in to see him.

"So you're playing again," she said needlessly, desperate for a neutral topic.

But their whole relationship was like a big game of six degrees of separation. That injury she was alluding to had been the catalyst for their breakup. Well, it had been the thing that brought out all those insecurities and issues.

And everything was like that. Basketball. Music. Art. Books. Tree Hill. The colour blue. That old car of hers. That fence. The teddy bear sitting in her suitcase (she wouldn't tell anyone, but she still couldn't be without it; she knew that he'd understand it).

If she was being honest, she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Yeah." He smiled at her, but she was looking to the ground. "It's not like I'll play pro, but I can finish out the season."

"That's great, Luke."

"It's OK," he said, and she smiled at him. It was better than OK, and she loved that he was being so nonchalant about it.

"It's great," she said firmly. "What about after school? You're almost done."

"I'm...I've been writing," he explained, shrugging one shoulder.

"That's..."

"Great?" he suggested, making them both laugh.

"Sorry. I'm...nervous around you," she said as they moved over to sit on the bleachers.

"You never used to be," he said.

"That was...before," she said, and he chuckled and nodded. Of course it was before.

"I'm nervous, too."

"Yeah, clearly," she scoffed.

"What does that mean?" he asked with a laugh.

"You're like, Mr. Charming right now, and I'm..."

"Perfect," he interrupted, looking into her eyes as he spoke. "You're perfect."

There was a moment there where she was sure she was going to kiss him. Or he was going to kiss her. She was sure there'd be a kiss. But they both had to know how important it was for them not to screw anything up, if anything were to happen.

And the way he was looking at her just then let her know that something was going to happen.

"So, Nathan says you aren't seeing anyone," she said bluntly. It was time to just lay it all out on the table.

"Subtle, Peyt.," he teased, laughing again when she shrugged her shoulder. "No. I'm not."

"OK."

"And neither are you," he pointed out, and she nodded. "That's..."

"Great?" she said. They both chuckled, and she was almost certain they were falling back into that easy conversation. Whatever simple and innate connection they'd always had - ever since they were kids - was still there.

"Is it?"

"I guess we'll see," she said quietly.

His heart raced a little.

It felt a lot like he was getting her back.

"Come on. I'll walk you home," he said, standing and waiting for her to follow him.

They talked on the way back to their neighbourhood about how crazy it was that Nathan and Haley were together, and it was all Lucas could do not to make a comment about them essentially switching partners. It had started off Lucas and Haley, and Nathan and Peyton, and had totally flipped around. But it had really started off Lucas and Peyton, and he knew that. And it wasn't Lucas and Peyton again. Yet.

"Are you in a rush?" she asked as they approached her house.

"It's midnight," he said. "My schedule's pretty clear."

She led him around the back of the house into that backyard they'd spent so many nights in, and at his questioning glance, she just smiled at him.

She lay down in the grass, and he laughed softly as he looked down at her.

"Come on," she pleaded, patting the space next to her. He rolled his eyes, but did as he was told, taking his place on her right, just like he always had.

"I feel about eight years old right now," he told her, and he watched as she closed her eyes.

"You were cute at eight," she said. She turned on her side and looked at him.

"You don't even remember," he said dismissively.

"I do too!" she insisted. "You were reading Charlotte's Web. You read to me."

She was right. He read that whole book out loud to her. Between his bedroom, her bedroom, and their backyards, and after several weeks, they'd finally finished the story. They always said they were like Charlotte and Wilbur, and Peyton giggled when Keith said he was going to start calling Lucas 'Pig'.

Anna was afraid of spiders, but when there was one in their kitchen one day, Peyton made such a fuss over her mother wanting to kill it, that Lucas had to capture it in a mason jar and release it outside. The two kids watched that spider crawl down the sidewalk, with Lucas telling Peyton that it'd be just fine, and she said thank you like he'd just done the nicest thing in the world.

Lucas still loved that book and all the memories wrapped up in it.

"How...You remember," he stated, almost in awe. "You never told me you remembered that."

"I think we drove our parents crazy saying salutations instead of hello," she said with a laugh. "Of course, I remember."

She rolled onto her back again, and she felt him take her hand in his. She didn't pull it away. She couldn't, and she didn't want to. She had known when she came up with that idea to lay in the grass and watch the stars, that he'd do it. She'd wanted him to.

She had missed this. She would have told him so, but it was implied in the amount of nostalgia they'd already experienced that evening and the fact that she was laying with her shoulder brushing his and their fingers intertwined.

As happy as he was that she was letting him share those moments with her, he still felt an underlying sense of sadness and almost shame that they hadn't been doing it all along. They'd lost so much time because of things that he said at the time were out of his control. They weren't, he'd just been too stupid and too naive and too childish to see it.

"I'm sorry," he said after a while.

"I know," she answered. "Me too."

That time, he actually had something to apologize for, and so did she.

She knew they had a lot of serious conversations in their future - well, she hoped they did - and she knew those would be hard conversations to have.

But that night, laying in her backyard with her hand tucked firmly into his, that apology felt like enough.


	11. Take it From Here

The night of the rehearsal dinner, Peyton wore a simple black dress, and she held a little bouquet of grocery store daisies - just like Karen did - and she stood there and pretended that she couldn't feel Lucas' gaze on her. But she was looking at him, too, and they'd both blush a little when their eyes locked, each not wanting the other to know they'd been sneaking glances. At one point, Peyton caught Keith's eye, and he just raised his brow and shook his head. He'd been Lucas and Peyton's most silent advocate. He trusted that they'd work it out.

Peyton was starting to think that he was just having this wedding to push the two kids together. He just laughed when she told him that, both knowing there was a lot more to it than that. He'd loved Karen for years and years. He made a point of telling Peyton how good it felt to finally be together. She looked at him and playfully scowled, but they both knew exactly what he was trying to tell her.

They were at a little restaurant by the beach for dinner and drinks, and Peyton was wrapped up in a conversation with Haley that had both girls laughing hysterically and stealing the attention of almost everyone in the room. Both women were captivating for very different reasons. Haley was striking and beautiful. Her laugh was soft and sweet and demure and alluring. Peyton was all subtlety and simplicity. A simple black dress and her hair in waves down her back. Simply glossed lips and minimal makeup. But her laugh had her throwing her head back. It filled the room. She'd always told Lucas she hated her laugh, but he'd just shake his head at her. He adored that laugh; those rare moments where she'd just let it go and let herself be completely happy.

"Damn, she's hot," Nathan said, walking up next to Lucas and handing him a beer.

"Yeah."

"I was talking about Haley," Nathan said, laughing as Lucas closed his eyes in embarrassment.

"Right," he said softly. "It's just weird for us not to be talking about the same girl, I guess."

They both laughed, knowing that was very, very true. Lucas almost wanted to thank Nathan for being such a good friend to Peyton for all those years. He didn't know how to say that, or even if he should, but he wanted to say the words. When he hadn't been there for Peyton, Nathan had. For the most part.

"You know, she's lucky?" Lucas said, glancing over at Nathan.

"Hell yeah, she's lucky. Look at me," Nathan said jokingly, gesturing to himself.

"I was talking about Peyton," Lucas laughed.

"Oh."

"You were good to her," Lucas said seriously.

"Someone had to be," Nathan pointed out, raising his brow. Lucas knew he deserved that statement.

"I know." Lucas shook his head in shame. "I'm glad it was you. Despite the shitty things I said at the time."

"Water under the bridge, man," Nathan insisted. "Just...make it up to her."

"I want to. I just don't know how." He watched her as she took a sip of her Champagne, and she smiled at him softly when she caught his eye.

"I'd lead with 'I love you'," Nathan said, shrugging one shoulder. "But that's just me."

Nathan clinked his bottle against Lucas', then went off towards the two women they'd just spent the last 20 minutes eyeing. Lucas was painfully aware that everyone was coupled off. Well, it wasn't exactly a massive party, but still. Nathan and Haley, Keith and Karen, Deb and her new boyfriend. Dan wasn't invited. Neither were Keith's parents.

He was lost in thoughts of how lonely he'd been for the past couple years. He realized that he'd been lonely since the second Peyton walked out his bedroom door, and maybe even before then. Maybe since those silly little arguments that had him acting like a jackass and hurting her without ever realizing it.

He had no idea why she'd even speak to him after all that. But he was pretty damn thankful that she would.

When he saw her set her glass on the table and walk to the exit out onto the empty patio, he knew that was his chance to talk to her.

But he wasn't going to lead with I love you. It felt like too much, though he was starting to get the impression that it'd be OK if he said it.

He hated that she was crying when he stepped outside. She wiped her cheeks hastily when she heard the door, and when she turned to see who had followed her, she almost laughed. She should have known it was him. She was standing, leaning against the railing and looking out at the water, and Lucas moved to stand next to her.

"You OK?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head. She tried to smile, but it was a weak attempt.

"Peyton. It's me," he said softly. She needed no further encouragement.

"I was just thinking about my mom," she admitted. "How she was supposed to be Karen's maid of honour."

"She would have loved that you are," he told her. She nodded and locked eyes with him. She loved that he had all those perfectly simple statements.

"And I was thinking...she'll never see me get married or have kids, and...It's just still hard sometimes, Luke."

"I know, baby," he said quietly, pulling her close to him with his arm draped around her shoulder. He'd slipped and called her that name he always used to call her, but she didn't seem to mind. He loved that she didn't mind.

She wasn't sure that she should have let him comfort her like that, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that he was the only one who could. He was the only one who knew to say only simple things and not give big speeches and promise her that it'd be OK. He still knew her. She wanted him to.

"She would have cried," she said after a few quiet moments.

"Yeah," he said, laughing softly. "She was a crier." Peyton laughed, and her hand fell to his thigh. "I remember when you lost your first tooth. She cried for like, an hour."

"She said I was growing up too fast."

"You did grow up too fast," he almost whispered. "We both did."

"Dan, death and dysfunction," she said, mostly to herself. His hand moved over her shoulder a couple times, and she knew he wasn't offended. "I'm only 20."

"What?" he asked, confused.

"I'm 20, and I've lost...been through so much," she said, twirling the ring that sat on her middle finger. He'd been with her when she bought it. She wondered if he remembered.

"We're never given more than we can handle," he told her, soothingly running his hand over her back.

He turned so he was leaning his elbow against the banister, and he almost couldn't believe how insanely gorgeous she was. She'd changed so much, and yet the things he'd always loved were still the same. Green eyes that held a pain he wanted to erase, and pink lips he wanted to kiss, and blonde hair - albeit now just a little darker - he wanted to bury his hands in.

"You know, I've kind of missed that?" she said, smiling, really, for the first time. "You come up with these little sayings and then everything makes more sense."

"Well, I didn't come up with that, but...I'm glad you missed it." He smiled back at her, and she somehow felt like she did when she was 13 and realizing for the very first time that Lucas Scott is actually quite attractive.

She could remember that. Feeling a little something in her stomach when he'd take her hand, or watching him at the River Court, sweating through his tee shirt. She was really just a girl then, and he was really just a boy, but there was something about him that had her staring a little longer. He'd smile at her and those blue eyes would shine, and she'd be a little lost with him. She'd liked it then, and she liked it now.

She hummed unconsciously, and he cocked his brow.

"What?" he asked, an amused smile on his lips.

"Nothing."

"Peyton." He actually laughed. It was adorable that she thought he couldn't read her.

"You just look really good, that's all," she said, shrugging one shoulder at him before turning back to the water in front of her.

"You look...There aren't words," he told her. She looked back to him with a little smile on her face.

"Aren't you supposed to be a writer?" she teased.

"Well, we'll see," he said noncommittally. "It's not like I'm the next Salinger or anything."

"You could be the first Scott," she said, her eyes locking with his.

His heart raced a little bit. She always said he was the one with the right words, but she always knew how to make him feel pretty amazing, too. And what he learned very quickly, standing there with her in the chilly ocean air, was that no one ever knew him like her, and no one ever would. How or why he ever let that slip away or lost sight of it, he didn't know.

He really, really didn't want to do it again.

"You're different," he said after a few moments. She raised her brow at him questioningly. "Good different. You're...kind of perfect." She smiled and blushed, and he thought that she was just everything he ever wanted. "You always have been, but..."

"It feels different, right?" she asked quickly, turning to face him completely. "Us."

"Yeah, but..."

"It's...good," she finished. "It kind of feels better than before."

He wanted to kiss her. He so badly wanted to. But he wouldn't rush their inevitable reunion, and he wouldn't scare her. He'd let her lead, and he'd do what he thought she wanted. He knew it may have just been wishful thinking to assume she wanted him to kiss her.

"Kind of does," he agreed.

"We should probably..." She gestured towards the door and he nodded, but when she went to walk away, he placed his hands on her upper arms.

"You know I love you, right?" he said softly, looking straight at her. He wouldn't give her any chance to think he didn't mean it the way he did.

She gently bit her bottom lip and she nodded again. She wanted to say that she loved him, too, but she just couldn't do it yet. She wasn't sure why. She just knew that if she said those words, too, then something more would happen, and they hadn't talked about any of the things they needed to talk about. She wouldn't have a repeat of that day after their breakup when things escalated before either of them had the good sense to stop it, and she ended up so hurt she could barely survive.

She she did love hearing those words.

She did know. Everyone had been telling her. But it was so incredible to hear them from him. She'd wanted so many times to have him just say those words again. She was glad it wasn't too late.

Maybe it never would be.

----

Walking down the aisle towards Lucas felt a little bit like practice.

She hated that she felt that way. But again, it was just inevitable.

They used to - when they were very little - pretend they were husband and wife, and their little teddy bears were their kids. Peyton would make Lucas push the stroller, and at five years old, he didn't know he wasn't supposed to have fun doing that.

Then, when they got a little older, it was his last name she'd write in her notebook next to her first name.

Even older still, he told her he liked how Peyton Scott sounded.

She still liked it.

She linked her arm through his after the ceremony, and he placed his hand over hers as it rest just above his elbow. She looked over at him, and he just winked as they walked back down the aisle.

Pretty much the only thing wrong with that picture, if you asked him, was that her dress was a deep purple and there wasn't a ring on her finger.

But he was getting ahead of himself.

She gave a speech about Keith and Karen that had him doing his best not to tear up - she was crying again; so was Karen - and he gave a speech about love that had her wiping her eyes again. He took her a full glass of Champagne, and when he passed her, his hand rest on her back. She looked up at him and smiled, and he handed her his handkerchief. He didn't say anything more, just walked away and took his seat next to Keith.

She adored him for taking care of her, even when they weren't together.

The first dance was announced, and the song started (the song Peyton had helped Karen choose days before), and she was watching Keith and Karen with a smile when a hand appeared in her periphery.

"You hate dancing," Peyton reminded him, looking up at him from her seat.

"It's part of my best man duty," he said, raising his brow as if to ask if she was joining him.

She rolled her eyes and placed her hand in his, and they walked together like that to the dance floor. Peyton pretended not to see Nathan and Haley whispering. She knew she and Lucas were the topic of that conversation. There was no doubt.

"You cried," Lucas pointed out after a few moments.

"I know."

"I didn't take you for a wedding crier," he said, and she laughed as she pulled away to look at him. "It's more than the wedding, though. Isn't it?"

"A lot more," she admitted.

"What are we going to do, Peyt?" he asked softly, like he really didn't know the answer.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "This is hard."

"But you love me, though, right?" he asked. She smiled at him, because of course she did. And because he wouldn't have just said that if he didn't know she did. And because it was always just there between them.

"I do," she said. "But you're still in Connecticut, and I'm still in Virginia. And we definitely have to talk about...before."

"So we'll talk about it," he said, as though it were all just that simple.

But even she thought it might have been.

"What about the distance?" she asked. "Clearly, we don't do distance well."

"Well, no, but that was two years ago," he said objectively.

She sighed and looked down. Sure, they kept saying things were different - they were different - but she wouldn't risk it again. She couldn't lose him again. It hurt too much the first time, and she didn't want to go through that again. She had a feeling in her heart that if they fell apart again, that'd be it. There would be no lingering feelings and no excuses, and she'd be all alone again.

"Can I come over later?" she asked as the song faded out. "Just to talk."

"Yeah." He nodded his head, and he didn't let her go. They were just standing there, holding onto each other in silence until she looked at him with an amused smile. "Sorry."

"I have something for you, too," she said as he released her and they started walking. He looked over at her with a raised brow. "Don't get any ideas."

He held his hands up innocently, and she could only laugh.

She couldn't say the thought hadn't crossed her mind, too...

"They're laughing together," Haley said giddily, tugging Nathan's arm as they sat at their table across the room from Lucas and Peyton.

"It's not a playground, Hales," he said with a chuckle.

"But it's not yelling. Or crying. Or those brooding stare things they do," she pointed out.

He didn't say anything in response. She was right. She was always right. He hadn't decided if he loved or hated that particular trait.

----

They lost track of each other amid Keith and Karen's sendoff, and it was Nathan that Peyton was leaning on as the limo drove off. Haley was on his other side, and of course, he couldn't help but make a comment about stealing both Lucas' girls. Peyton and Haley just shook their heads and exchanged a glance before walking off together and leaving him standing there alone.

Peyton left with her dad shortly after, and she saw Lucas talking with a few other attendees. He smiled at her to let her know that they were still on for a talk.

He was scared out of his mind. Really, he had no idea what the result of that talk would be. He wanted to believe that she was just going to tell him that trying to be apart was crazy, and that she just wanted them to be a couple again. But then, he thought, if that were the case, she would have already said it.

When Lucas got home, he quickly shucked his jacket and loosened his tie.

And of course, that was the very moment an idea popped into his head for his novel, and he had to write it down. He sat at his desk and opened the document on his laptop, and after about a half hour, he pulled off his tie - it was just pestering him - and Peyton stepped into his room just as he'd tossed the black silk towards the bed.

"I told you not to get any ideas," she joked.

"I was...yeah," he said. She shook her head, indicating that she didn't need an explanation. "You look sexy. Can I say that?"

She was wearing a pair of black sweat pants and a grey tank top beneath a black zippered sweater. Her subtle makeup from the wedding was still intact, but she'd pulled the pins from her updo and her hair was falling over her shoulders. She wasn't sure how that was sexy.

But he could definitely say it, she decided.

"Thanks. You didn't change," she noted.

"I got sidetracked," he said, pointing to his computer. He glanced to the bag in her hands with a raised brow.

"Oh! Right. This is...I got you this," she said, shrugging her shoulder as she handed him the bag. "It's not much."

He pulled the blue fabric out of the bag and chuckled. She'd gotten him a sweater from her school, blue with orange writing on the front.

"Thank you," he said sincerely.

"I figured since I stole your Yale one, I'd replace it with this one," she explained.

"I thought you would have thrown that out."

She shrugged her shoulders again as their eyes locked. "I couldn't."

He just smiled at her. He loved that she hadn't given up all those memories. And the more they spoke over the course of those few days since she'd been back, the more he realized that she hadn't let go of a single one. Not one single memory. He thought that had to count for something.

"Sit," he said, gesturing to the bed. She looked a little uncomfortable for a moment. "Or we could go..."

"It's fine," she insisted, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. He sat next to her, close enough that their knees touched, and she didn't move, and neither did he. "Sooo."

"Don't be nervous," he laughed. "It's just me."

"Lucas, I can tell when you're nervous, too, you know," she reminded him, and he chuckled a little more. "But...it's us."

"I know, it's just...You do something to me that I can't explain," he said, shaking his head in sheer wonder.

"Really? You're quoting Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton?" she asked teasingly. He just looked at her like she was crazy. "Islands in the Stream? No?"

"I'm serious," he laughed. He loved that she could break the tension like that, though.

"So am I! It's one of the lyrics!"

"Peyton," he said with a smile. "Come on."

"Don't you miss this?" she asked softly. "Me schooling your sorry ass in music trivia?"

"I miss all of it. All of you."

"Me too," she whispered, looking to her hands. It surprised her when he took one of hers in his. She liked it, though.

"I keep thinking about that day, and how much of an ass I was," he admitted.

"Which day?" she asked, raising her brow.

She had him there.

"A lot of them," he said softly. "A couple in particular. Peyton, if I could change it all..."

"I've thought a lot about this, Luke," she said. "Probably too much. And it's...We needed that. We did. We needed the blow ups and the break up and the time apart."

"Are you sure? Because all I've felt since that day in your bedroom is that I made the biggest mistake of my life." He shook his head and she was smiling, though he was looking to their hands and didn't see it. "Maybe you're right about the time apart, but...I wish we hadn't needed it."

"I know. Me too. But Luke, we've got all these things against us. The timing and the distance. The age difference," she listed off. "These past few days...this is the only time I've ever really felt like I'm even on the same level as you."

"Peyton..." he said admonishingly, furrowing his brow.

"It's not an accusation. It's just the way I've always felt."

"But you feel different now?"

"I do," she answered after a moment. "And...I'm doing all the talking."

"No. I want to know how you feel," he said earnestly. "I want to know if you're saying you want to get back together." She took a breath and her eyes met his. "Because that's what_ I _want."

"I want that, too," she said quietly. "But I need to know that it's going to work."

"It will," he promised. He turned to face her a little more, and he placed his palm on her cheek. "Peyton, it will."

"I really want to believe that."

"So believe it," he said, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

"But we go to different schools in different states, and..."

"Only for another few months, then I graduate," he reminded her. "Then I can move to Charlottesville."

"You can't...You can't just move to Charlottesville," she said, almost laughing at how eager he was to do whatever it took.

But it wasn't funny. It really wasn't funny. It was sweet and kind of perfect. She loved him for it.

"Sure I can. Then we'll figure it out from there," he said. "Peyton, this is..."

"Maybe we should wait, then," she suggested. "Just until you're done."

"But I'm telling you I don't want to wait, Peyton," he said firmly. "I realize that sounds selfish and..."

"Not really." She smiled and closed both hands around his. She shifted and tucked her leg beneath her so she could look at him. "I don't want to wait either, but...We rushed it last time, and that obviously didn't work."

"So you want me to be in love with you, but not be with you?" he asked incredulously. "It's not fun. I don't know how to do it. Not well."

"Ask Nathan," she said with a smile.

"I'm not sure that's funny."

"It's funny. It's funny if you're me," she said. He had to smile when she laughed.

"What does this all mean, Peyton?" he asked.

"It means you're going to call me every day, and you're not going to date anyone else."

"So I'm going to be your boyfriend," he stated. She noticed he was smiling and she rolled her eyes. "Come on, Peyton. This is crazy."

"I just can't lose you again," she said softly. "I can't."

"You don't have to worry about that," he promised her. "I _love_ you. I don't know how to say it any better than that. I'll do whatever you want, but...I love you."

She had to pause. She had to take a minute. Maybe time wasn't what she needed at all. Maybe she just needed that promise. She needed to see the look in his eyes when he said that he loved her and they'd make it work.

If all she wanted was him, then why was she keeping herself from having him? She couldn't let that cloud the very real fact that they'd done it this way before - stolen a few days and called it a relationship and pretended it'd survive everything - and it hadn't worked. She wouldn't do that again.

"You'd really move to Charlottesville?" she asked.

"I'd transfer from Yale right now if that was what you needed," he said seriously.

"Can we do it my way for a little while? Just...get to know each other again?"

He knew what she was doing. She needed to know they were still compatible, even more so than those few days had proven. It was one thing to play to the nostalgia and the memories, and it was quite another to enter into a relationship that would no doubt be the last for both of them.

He knew they would. He'd be patient with her until she was convinced of it, too.

"We can do it whatever way you want," he insisted. She raised her brow, and he shook his head. It wasn't an innuendo. He kind of liked that she had heard it as one.

It meant she wanted him almost as badly as he wanted her.

"Thank you," she almost whispered.

"But, can I kiss you right now? Because I really need to kiss you right now."

She closed her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat as she nodded her head. His lips pressed against hers gently, not unlike that kiss of theirs on the beach that night when she was a freshman. She wondered if he'd notice she'd put on that lip gloss he always said he loved.

And what she realized, as his hand found her cheek, was that she really needed to kiss him, too.


	12. Where You Are

The tried it her way for a while.

At first, he had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do; how he was supposed to act. How often was he supposed to call her? Could he email her? What was he supposed to say when people asked if he had a girlfriend?

So he called her every second or third day - or she called him - and they emailed the days they didn't speak on the phone. When people asked if he had a girlfriend, he told them he had a girl he loved. That seemed like the most fitting and honest answer.

Every day seemed to be a countdown. Not only to Christmas break, when they'd both be back in Tree Hill, but to graduation, when he had every intention of moving to Charlottesville. She hadn't brought that up, and neither had he, and he had no idea how it would work. But it would work, that much he knew.

So he went about his life at Yale, playing basketball and studying towards getting his major in English lit. But he was always thinking about her. The difference now, was that it didn't _hurt_ to think about her. He was more hopeful than hurting, and that was an pretty incredible change.

He called her one Wednesday, just after Thanksgiving. Neither of them had been able to go back to Tree Hill, so they'd spoken on the phone that Sunday. She called him and told him she had ordered pizza and was watching Independence Day on television, and so he said he'd do the same. He ordered pizza online and the two of them spent their entire evening on the phone, talking about the movie and eating their very un-festive food.

At the end of that conversation, for the first time, it was her who said those three words first. That was a pretty incredible change, too.

"Hello?" she answered, clearly breathless and distracted.

"Hi. You OK?"

"Yeah. Just...spilled coffee all over my notes for my entrepreneurship class, and had to run for...Never mind."

"You want me to call you back?" he asked with a laugh.

"No!" she answered quickly. "No. It's actually really good to hear your voice."

"We talked yesterday."

"For about two minutes," she reminded him.

"Yeah. Sorry about that, I just had this..."

"It's alright. I understand," she insisted. "How are you?"

"Good now that I got that essay in," he told her. "I was being a total perfectionist, but I want to keep myself above 90% in that class, so..."

"You're such a nerd," she teased. "What was the essay on again?"

"Underlying philosophy of love in..."

"Right," she interrupted, making him laugh. "Gotcha."

"So you wanna hear some crazy news?" Lucas said.

"You know that Haley's pregnant!?" she almost shrieked.

"What!?" he shouted in surprise. "No! I was going to tell you that Nathan's going to propose! Does he know?"

"No! I talked to her yesterday, and she didn't know how how to tell him," she explained. She was laying back on her bed, but she kicked her legs a little in excitement. "He's really proposing?"

"She's the one," he said softly.

"Wow," she sighed.

"I know. It's big."

"We're growing up," she said. She turned and looked at the photo of Keith and Karen, Lucas and Peyton from the wedding, and she smiled.

"Yeah," he said softly.

"Our friends are getting married and having a baby," she said needlessly.

He glanced over to his desk, to the grad school information from Peyton's school. He'd contacted them the week prior, and the package arrived that afternoon. He wasn't sure he should mention it to her yet. He needed to get his application in pretty much right away, and he didn't want to just tell her that he was going to her school after he'd gotten accepted. Well, hopefully he'd get accepted.

"I need to tell you something," he admitted.

"OK. That scares me."

"No. It's good. I hope it's good," he said. There was a cryptic tone in all that, and he knew it would do nothing to reassure her.

"Just tell me," she insisted.

"I'm thinking of applying to grad school."

"What!?" she almost shouted. "What? Why? I thought..."

"At UVA," he interrupted. He realized he should have mentioned that first.

But he kind of liked knowing how badly she wanted him there.

"Really?" she asked quietly. "I mean...Really?"

"I told you I'd move," he reminded her.

"No, I know, but I just thought...I don't know what I thought."

"It's only a two year program, so we'll be done at the same time, and then we can decide from there."

"Decide what?" she asked, just a bit of teasing lilt in her voice.

"Everything," he said. "I mean, I know I'm not technically your boyfriend or anything, but..."

He'd do that every so often. He'd remind her that they weren't really together, though they talked like they were, and they ended the majority of their conversations with three words that indicated they should be. He still thought it was insane that she wouldn't just admit that they were in a relationship - a real relationship - but he never came right out and said it. She needed what she needed, and he wasn't about to try to tell her differently.

She'd see it on her own.

"Lucas, if it's what you want, then you should do it," she interrupted him.

"Ah, yes. The noncommittal response," he said with a chuckle.

"It's not non anything," she said, laughing at just how ridiculous that sounded.

"It kind of is."

"What I mean, is that if you want to do it, you should," she explained.

"Got that part," he teased.

"And that as long as you're here, I'll be happy," she finished quietly.

That was one of those moments - there were many - that he wished he could just kiss her. Over the course of the last month and a half - or two years, really - he realized that very rarely had he ever been able to just kiss her if he wanted to. Sure, they stole weeks here or there, but he never got to see her every day, not when they were dating. He missed just seeing her, of course; that solid and honest friendship they'd had forever. But he also really wanted the simple things that came with a relationship. He wanted to come home to her and make dinner with her. He wanted to grocery shop with her, or bring her coffee on weekends.

He just wanted all of her, all the time.

The thing was? He got the impression that it wasn't too much to ask.

Peyton hung up the phone that night and lay in bed in the dark for what felt like ages.

She hadn't admitted it - she knew she couldn't - but her way? Not so fun. There was a part of her that still felt it was all for the best, though. She and Lucas had essentially built their friendship back up again. They'd started slowly, and she could tell they were both nervous about saying the wrong thing or doing the wrong thing. After a few phone calls, however, they seemed to fall back into the Lucas and Peyton they always used to be.

It was exactly what she was hoping for. She'd told him as much, and she wasn't worried about giving him too much hope; they'd both known where they were ultimately headed, and she wanted him to know they were getting there.

She was starting to think the end of the school year wouldn't come fast enough.

----

Peyton got to Tree Hill a couple days before Lucas did for Christmas break.

She didn't tell him that, though. As far as he knew, she was driving down the day after him, since she had to pick up a shift at the record store where she worked every once in a while. She hadn't lied to him, she just didn't tell him that her shift was cancelled, and so she could leave for Tree Hill on Thursday instead of having to drive up on Sunday after working Saturday.

Keith and Karen had some prior engagement they couldn't get out of, so Peyton knew they wouldn't be around. When she asked them if it was alright if she hung out until Lucas got back, they just smiled at her and told her it was fine. Of course, it was fine. The still-newlyweds, though it was strange to think of them like that, left in their nice clothes, shaking their heads.

When Lucas stepped through the door and into his bedroom after taking a cab from the airport, he froze in his place. He didn't expect that beautiful girl - _his_ beautiful girl - to be laying on his bed.

"Is this a mirage?" he asked, setting his bags down quickly.

"Yes if you hate that I'm here, no if you don't?" she said. She phrased it like a question, since it seemed he was kind of in shock.

"Hate that you're here?" he asked, shaking his head. "No. Just surprised."

"That was the idea," she said softly, rolling onto her back. He saw that she had been reading his old copy of _Walden_.

"Is it against the rules if I lay on top of you and kiss you?"

His voice was low and gravelly and she felt like if he didn't do that very thing, she'd never speak to him again. She wondered if he'd noticed that she swallowed thickly, or that she was biting the inside of her lip.

He had.

She merely shook her head gently, and he was across the room quickly, doing exactly what he'd, perhaps needlessly, asked her permission to do.

It wouldn't have looked like a passionate kiss, physically speaking, if anyone had seen it. He merely brushed his lips against hers, loving everything about her. The way their bodies - now older and just a little different - still seemed to fit together in the best possible ways, and the way she placed her hand on his bicep and her other on his back.

And that raspberry lip balm.

Which reminded him of something.

He reached over to his night stand with her watching him in confusion (though she hadn't moved her hands, he noticed). He opened the drawer and pulled out a deep pink tube of lip balm with that classic, colourful font on the side, and Peyton started laughing.

"Something you want to tell me, Luke?" she teased, kinking her brow.

"It's yours," he told her. She should have known, but she only grew more confused. "You threw it at my head that time, remember?"

She laughed softly and closed her eyes for a moment. "The day you called me a bitch."

"I was hoping you'd forgotten that part," he said shamefully. "I never did call you a bitch again, though."

"You promised," she said softly. He just nodded. "It's still creepy that you kept my Lip Smackers though. And I had to buy a new one because I couldn't find this."

"I know. You made me come with you."

"That's right!" she laughed. "Why didn't you just tell me you had it?"

"I wanted a reminder that I should never fight with you," he admitted. Their eyes locked, and she thought he was seriously the most adorable human being on the planet.

"How'd that work out for you?" she asked, raising her brow again.

"I might have slipped up a little," he said softly. He pecked her lips quickly, just because he could, and because he wanted to, and because she wasn't pushing him off her. "I can't believe you still wear this stuff."

"It's my favourite," she explained, shrugging one shoulder.

He leaned down and kissed along her jaw line until he got to her ear, then whispered, "mine too."

He was wondering how far she'd let him take things if he tried to, well, take them anywhere. God, he wanted her so badly. Given their current position, with him pressed against her, he was sure she knew it. She wasn't pushing him away or telling him to stop, but she wasn't exactly encouraging him either. And honestly, he wasn't sure how much he wanted to push the issue. Since they'd started talking again, he'd basically been taking an 'I'll take what I can get' approach with her, because he knew how lucky he was to even have her back in his life at all.

But he was really enjoying the way she was breathing a little unsteadily as he placed gentle, sweet kisses to her neck and collar bone.

He whispered a frustrated curse against her skin when the door was pushed open. He and Peyton looked over just in time to see Nathan and Haley looking like complete dorks, with huge smiles on their faces.

"We've interrupted," Haley said, as though that were actually an accomplishment.

And it was, really, since there was something to interrupt.

"Whatever. Get off her, man. You guys are coming with us," Nathan said quickly.

"What? Why?" Peyton said. She smiled a little. Lucas still hadn't moved. He clearly didn't want to.

"Just come with us," Haley said. She tugged Nathan's arm out of the room, leaving Lucas and Peyton alone again.

Lucas rolled onto his back, but turned his head to look at Peyton.

"How far would you have let me take that?" he asked with a cheeky smile.

"First base. At most."

"What!?" he almost cried. "Come on. Second. At least?"

"No way! First base helps me decide you aren't a waste of Lip Smackers," she explained. She kissed his cheek when he pouted, then she stood from the bed.

"You don't know that much already?"

"Jury's still out," she joked, making him roll his eyes and smile as he got up. "Come on. Let's see what's going on with those two."

"Hey," he said, catching her wrist before she opened the door, "I'm...It's so good to see you." She smiled and nodded, and he pulled her a little closer. "And first base would have been awesome."

"Hell yeah, it would have been," she murmured just before she pressed her lips to his.

She was pulling away all too quickly, then she walked out the door with him following behind her. They got into Nathan's waiting SUV and buckled their seat belts, and Lucas asked what the hell was going on.

"You're coming with us," Haley stated.

"Yeah. We got that part," Peyton reminded her. "Come on. What's going on?"

"We're going to the church."

"Midnight mass or something?" Peyton asked distractedly. Lucas had just taken her hand, and when she turned to look at him, he winked at her.

"Can you two put ice on it, for like, a couple hours at least?" Nathan requested, having seen their interaction in the rearview mirror. "We're getting married. Tonight."

"What?!" Peyton cried.

"It's best for both of us," Haley explained. "For you know, our images and stuff. If we get married now..."

"It looks like a shotgun wedding," Lucas interrupted.

"Luke!" Peyton hissed.

"No. We'll say we found out about the baby after the wedding," Nathan said with a shrug.

"You're almost three months along," Peyton said, chuckling a little. "That might not be the best plan."

"Well, I'm taking a break from touring and everything, so no one will care on my side," Haley insisted. "Nathan's entering the draft, so that'll be the tough one."

"You mean since he's the number one college ball player in the country, and expected to go first overall?" Peyton asked. Nathan turned to her quickly, and Lucas looked at her in confusion. "What!? I read the paper!"

"Anyway. It's fine," Nathan insisted after they'd all stopped laughing. "We kind of don't care. We're getting married."

"So what is our part of this whole scheme?" Peyton asked.

"Best man and maid of honour," Haley explained.

"What?" Peyton breathed out. "Are you serious? I'm in jeans and a tee shirt and a leather jacket."

"I called Brooke," Nathan said. "And I talked to Karen. We have stuff for you guys to wear."

"Why the secrecy? Why not just tell us?" Lucas asked as they pulled up to the small church in the center of town.

"This is more fun," Haley said simply, shrugging one shoulder.

Nathan grabbed two garment bags from the back of the vehicle. He gave one to Peyton to carry - no one missed that Haley rolled her eyes; he was even more protective and careful now that she was carrying his baby - and he took the other. He kissed Haley quickly, then started up the steps of the church, calling for Lucas to follow him. The blond just kissed Peyton's cheek quickly - which really wasn't enough for her, though she didn't dare say it - and followed his brother.

The girls changed in one of the dressing rooms, and Peyton was amazed that Brooke had sent an amazing navy blue silk dress for her to wear for the occasion. Of course, it was a hand stitched work of art.

"Wait! You have your something old, new, borrowed and blue?" Peyton asked worriedly as she curled Haley's hair.

"Earrings from Deb that were Nathan's grandmother's, which are borrowed," she explained.

"Two for one. Nice work."

"And...something blue," Haley said as she stood. She pulled up her tee shirt to show Peyton the little number at the small of her back.

"Haley James with the tramp stamp!" Peyton said with a laugh. Haley swatted her arm and both girls chuckled. "Wait. You didn't do this recently, did you?"

"No! God, no. I got it on the road this summer," Haley explained, easing Peyton's worry about her having been tattooed while pregnant.

"I bet he loved that," Peyton said. She noticed Haley blush a little. "Something new?"

"The dress, the baby," Haley counted off on her fingers.

"Doesn't count."

"He got me this bracelet the other day," Haley said. She held up her wrist to show the simple gold bracelet with a round diamond in the center.

"That'll do," Peyton said softly. She sprayed Haley's hair with a little hairspray and they both looked in the mirror. That may have been the moment the realized what a huge day this was. "Let's get you into the dress."

They did that very thing, with Peyton helping with the buttons at the back of Haley's simple white strapless dress. It flowed to the floor and had a beautifully beaded neckline, and just a little bit of a train at the back. She looked beautiful, and she and Peyton both started tearing up a little when Peyton said so. They each took a deep breath, Peyton handed Haley her little bundle of purple flowers, and they made their way out of the dressing room.

Peyton was a little surprised when she saw Keith, Karen, Deb and her boyfriend Charles, Haley's parents, and Dan all sitting in the church. She wasn't crazy about seeing Dan there, but Nathan was his son, so she would set aside her own feelings.

And when she saw Lucas in a black suit and light blue shirt, he was all she could register anyway.

There was no big reception afterward. There was just a simple dinner in a private room at a nice restaurant, where everyone sat at the same table and talked and shared stories about the newlywed couple.

Lucas sat next to Peyton with his hand on her thigh beneath the table for a good portion of the night. She didn't complain. She took a breath and placed her hand on his when it traveled just a little high, and he shot her an apologetic look. Really, she was only stopping him because they were in public, not because she really wanted him to stop.

Nathan and Haley were whispering things to each other as the adults all talked about the economy or something or another, and Lucas turned to Peyton, draping his arm over the back of her chair. She was taking a sip of Champagne, but looked at him in confusion when she saw the very intense expression on his face.

"It'll be us next," he said softly, leaning forward and speaking into her ear.

"Lucas, you don't know that," she said seriously.

"Yes, I do."

He was smiling, and he was confident, and she was left a little breathless by the way he was looking at her.

That was the most convincing argument she'd ever heard.

----

Lucas, gentleman that he was, kissed Peyton gently at her door around midnight when he dropped her off. He made a joke about them spending all their time together at weddings, and she had to laugh. It was kind of true.

When she called him more than an hour later and asked him to come over, he wasn't sure what was going on. Not that it mattered. He pulled a sweatshirt over his head - that one she'd given him, actually - and slipped through the fence between their yards. Climbing the stairs, he couldn't help but think of the last time he was really inside that house and inside her room.

He hated that they both had to live with the memory of what an idiot he'd been.

He entered her room and saw her laying on her bed in his old Yale sweatshirt, and they both laughed softly when they saw each others' attire. His smile faded when he saw the tears on her cheeks.

"Peyton, what's wrong?" he asked. His heart was in his stomach, thinking maybe she was reconsidering everything. Maybe she was taking back the last couple months and that perfect day and all the things they'd said in between.

"I was just...I heard this song, and it really hit me," she said. He could hear the tears in her voice.

"Well, what song?" he asked, sitting next to her on the bed.

She loved that he asked her what song it was. Not what the lyric was, or what that lyric made her realize. That was why she loved him. He _knew_ her. He understood her. Better than she understood herself, most days.

"It's called If Tonight is My Last," she said. "And it's about knowing that...that if this is all we get, who you want to spend it with."

He hoped she remembered that night all those years ago - what seemed like forever ago - when she spoke something so similar and they made love for the first time. He almost cried, himself.

"That's kind of a beautiful concept," he said honestly.

"The lyric is 'if tonight is my last, I want to spend it with you'."

"Wow," he whispered. "That's..."

"Powerful?"

"Yeah." He nodded gently and reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear, his hand falling to her upper arm afterward.

"I just want to stop all this," she admitted finally, sitting up a little. "I want to love you completely. I want to be your girlfriend, and I want you to move into my place in Charlottesville at the end of your year, and I want..."

He kissed her and cut off all those perfect words, and he didn't regret it for a second. They were all the things she hadn't been saying all along, and he'd been waiting for them since that night in his bedroom when he'd agreed to do whatever she wanted him to do.

"I just love you, Lucas," she said breathlessly once they'd parted.

"I love you so much," he nearly whispered. "I love you."

She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down on top of her, and he forgot all the words he'd wanted to say, too. He'd just said the most important ones anyway.

Her hands were soon pushing up the fabric of his sweatshirt, and he smiled against her lips as his hand found her hip. She knew he was about to say something, so she kissed him a little harder, but he pulled away.

"What happened to first base?" he asked with a smirk.

"Lucas," she purred, her breathing shallow. She tugged his shirt and let her remove it. "We'll round it on the way home."

They both laughed a little bit, and then he was shaking his head in what she assumed was wonder. She didn't want him to think about the past or all the things that had happened or all the bridges they'd had to cross to get to that moment.

So she said she loved him again, and she kissed him like that would prove what she was saying.

It kind of did.


	13. One Sweet Love

"Lucas," she sang softly. There was no response. "Luke."

"Hmm," he mumbled sleepily.

"Well, hello there," she giggled.

"Did I fall asleep?"

"Yeah."

"Baby, I'm sorry. I'm just..."

"It's OK. I'll just let you go," she laughed.

He was in a hotel room in Cambridge after playing - and beating - Harvard. He'd called her, just like he always did after games, and told her all about it. The game had gone into overtime, and Lucas had made the winning shot. Peyton was complaining, for the hundredth time at least, that she couldn't get his games on her television.

She wasn't sure when exactly he'd dozed off, but she had been in the middle of a story about one of her classes from that day. She couldn't really blame him; it wasn't that interesting. She just thought it funny that he'd asked - begged, almost - for a story, and then fallen asleep on her.

"No. No...stay with me. Please."

"You're barely conscious. Just go to sleep," she insisted. "Apparently, I'm boring you."

She was absolutely joking, but he didn't pick up on that.

"No! You aren't. I don't want to hang up yet," he very nearly pouted.

"Just call me in the morning. Get sleep. I love you."

"Love you."

She laughed a little as she hung up the phone, and he smiled. Being a senior and a former coach, he somehow managed to get a single room when the team went on the road. He'd insisted it was fine that he share with someone else, but the head coach was having nothing of it.

That meant that he got to talk to his girlfriend as much as he wanted without ridicule from his teammates. He was definitely OK with that. He just hated that he'd fallen asleep on her. That had never happened before, in all the late night, long, mostly pointless conversations they'd had. Well, none of them were pointless, since it was always him and her, and there was always some point, no matter how buried it was.

Lucas loved Yale. He did. It had been four (mostly) great years of solid, world class education and basketball.

And he couldn't wait to get the hell out of there.

The distance wasn't as hard that time, and he didn't expect it to be. He loved her, and she loved him, and they were both old enough to know that those words like forever and always and true love weren't to be bandied around carelessly. They hadn't thought they'd done it before, but as they'd been saying since that October, it was all different now.

She'd told him late one night that she always thought she'd wear her mother's engagement ring when she got married. His heart raced on the other end of the line, and he asked her, rather shyly, why she'd tell him that. She merely said his name. Nothing more. No further explanation. He hadn't really needed one.

He hadn't told her yet that he'd gotten into grad school. He'd only applied to one, and it was UVA or nothing. No other grad school would do. Only Charlottesville had her, and he was moving there no matter what.

He lay in that not-so-comfortable hotel bed, not entirely sure how he was going to tell her that bit of news. It was the end of February, they were stronger than ever, and he was for sure going to move in with her. Well, if she'd have him. He knew she would. He just didn't want to tell her that good news over the phone. He was too tired to even think about filling her in on the information he'd just gotten the day before.

She'd driven out to Philadelphia to watch Yale take on Penn. He'd lost his game, but she made him forget about it within minutes. She smiled at him when he emerged from the locker room, and she nibbled his ear as she told him just how sexy he'd looked on the court. Who needs basketball when you've got a girl like that? The two of them had spent the entire weekend exploring the city together before they had to go their separate ways. Only leaving each other didn't seem quite so hard anymore. There was always that word _forever_ hanging over them, a silent reassurance.

He was just about to drift off when his phone buzzed on the night stand, and he smiled, for some reason, knowing it had to be Peyton.

She'd sent him a photo of herself, laying in her bed with her covers up to her chin, and the text 'sleep tight' keyed in.

It wasn't the first time she'd sent something like that. He loved it every single time.

----

The drive to Charlottesville was interesting. Interesting because he was so damn nervous.

He supposed that was what happened when one drove to see his girlfriend in her city for the first time. As a surprise. When he'd specifically told her he wasn't sure he'd be able to visit her before the school year was out.

Well, he'd had plans to see her, he just didn't tell her so.

He wouldn't lie, he loved the disappointment in her voice when he said he wasn't sure when they'd see each other. But it wasn't like years prior when their next meetings were up in the air and they'd both be upset by that. They wanted to see each other, of course, but they both understood that it wasn't that easy. That was probably the biggest change. They _understood_ it.

His team missed the playoffs, and he wasn't thrilled about that, but that meant he had a long weekend at the beginning of March to head out to see Peyton. That was better than any basketball game.

He pulled onto her street and cut the engine in front of the apartment building she lived in. It was just a two story building with access to each unit from the outside. There was no security in place. There were merely stairs to the second floor. There was no guard, no gate, no locked door or access codes needed. He wasn't crazy about that, but she'd been living there for two years without incident, and the neighbourhood was really nice, he noticed.

He walked up the stairs to her apartment - 237 - and took a deep breath before raising his hand to knock on the door. He heard her footsteps walking through the apartment, and he was already smiling.

"Dammit Brad! I said I'm busy!" she huffed through the door before pulling it open. Her jaw dropped when she saw that it was Lucas and not Brad, whoever that was.

"I can come back later," he said, laughing when she lunged forward and threw her arms around him. He thought she may have mumbled something like, _'you're not going anywhere,'_ into his shoulder, but he wasn't entirely sure.

She kissed him before he was even inside, and he didn't care in the least. She was on the balls of her feet, and her arms were hooked around his neck, and she could feel him smiling against her. She had no idea why he was there, or how he was there, or how long he was staying, but she was going to take advantage of every single second.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, burying her face in his neck again.

"Making out in your doorway," he said with a laugh. He lifted her up just a little bit and walked her backwards inside, and she pushed the door closed behind them.

"What are you...? Why?"

"I missed you," he answered simply, shrugging one shoulder as her hands rested on his hips. "You look amazing."

"Ugh. I do not," she groaned, looking away from him.

"Yeah. You do," he insisted.

She was in just a pair of navy cotton shorts with _Virginia_ written across the back in orange lettering, and a white tank top. Her hair was up on the top of her head in a messy knot, and she was wearing only mascara and - he knew, since he'd tasted it - that raspberry lip balm.

Gorgeous.

"Answer me!" she demanded, releasing him just long enough for her to lock the door and push him towards her living room.

"I'm surprising you," he said, sitting when she shoved him down onto the sofa. She sat so she was almost on top of him, clutching his arm and leaning into him.

"Well, mission accomplished."

"And I thought I should see the school I'll be going to next year."

She froze next to him, then placed her palm on his cheek and forced him to look at her. He laughed at the shocked expression on her face. He'd only been there five minutes, and already she was losing her mind.

"What?" she asked seriously. "You are?"

"I got in. I didn't want to tell you over the phone," he told her.

"Luke!" she cried, making him chuckle again. "That's...You're really coming here."

"That was always the plan."

"Yeah, but...it's real now," she said softly.

"It was always real," he almost whispered.

"God, I love you. I _love_ you. So much."

He didn't say it back. It was implied in the kiss he pulled her into. She wound up straddling his lap, something he'd never complain about, especially when those little shorts of hers weren't leaving much to the imagination. Her hands ran through his hair, and he was pretty sure he wasn't going to be getting a tour of her apartment any time soon.

He pulled her tank top over her head, and she laughed at how far across the room he threw it.

"You don't want me to put that back on, apparently," she murmured as her own hands pulled up the fabric of his tee shirt. He just shook his head, and then smiled when she threw his shirt as far as she could away from them.

They didn't move to the bedroom, and neither cared. The sofa would do.

She tucked into his side after, pressed between his body and the back of the couch, and she ran her hand up and down his side lightly. She wished she'd had more self control than that. She wished the first thing they did when they saw each other wasn't make love.

But, well, she'd missed him, and she'd missed that, and it felt a little like a celebration. It felt like making up for over a month of being apart. It felt a lot like exactly what she wanted to do.

"So you drove eight hours to have sex on my sofa?" she asked, making him laugh.

"It was you climbing into _my_ lap, babe," he reminded her. She just grumbled something incoherent and pulled him a little closer. His stomach growled and she pulled away to look at him. "I only stopped for a protein shake."

"You idiot," she laughed. "Get dressed. I'll make you some food."

He smiled and leaned forward to kiss her, loving that she was grown up enough to say things like that. It was silly, maybe, but he loved Peyton as a woman more than any other version of her. She was caring and compassionate, but just as stubborn and playful and independent as always. The perfect balance of everything that had always made her, her.

"You have to let me up," she said, giggling.

He didn't move, and she rolled her eyes at the wolfish smirk he was wearing. She climbed over him, laying atop him briefly to kiss, and admittedly tease him. She stood up, naked and glowy, and reached for his tee shirt to pull it over her head. She looked incredible, pulling her hair through the opening at the neck and letting it sway as she turned to face him.

"Lucas! Put something on!" she pleaded. She threw a blanket over him, then ran away before he could grab her wrist.

"I don't want to," he almost pouted. "I fully intend on getting you naked again anyway."

"Save it, Romeo," she said with a laugh. "Seriously. Clothes. Now."

"Bossy."

He pulled his jeans back on while she put on some music and moved around her kitchen. He stood back and observed as she cooked something or another. He definitely enjoyed that his shirt only hit her mid-thigh, and her hair was all unruly, and she was barefoot and tending to his need for food.

"What are you making me?" he asked, walking up behind her at the stove and wrapping his arms around her.

"I'm making _us_ ravioli in rosé sauce," she said. He let out a breath and she smiled. "I did work in the café for years. I know some stuff."

"Apparently."

"You know, I've never actually cooked us a real meal before?" she noted, turning to look at him. "That's so weird."

"Well, when I move here, we can cook together all the time," he said, kissing the side her her neck when she turned back to the stove.

She leaned back against him and closed her eyes. Every time he said that he was moving, she felt a sense of relief. She never thought they wouldn't make it - not since they had come back together had it even crossed her mind - but knowing for certain that he was committed to living with her was definitely one less thing to worry about.

"So who's Brad?" he asked, stealing a piece of romaine lettuce from the salad she was preparing.

"My other boyfriend. Nice guy. You'd probably like him."

"Come on," he laughed. He loved that they could joke like that with no insecurities. He knew he was the only one for her, and she the only one for him. That had all been determined.

"He lives downstairs. He's studying architecture," she explained. "And he's adorable."

"Um..."

"He's gay, Luke. You have nothing to worry about," she said with a teasing lilt, patting his cheek softly.

"I wasn't worried," he scoffed.

"Sure you weren't," she said, winking at him. "Make yourself useful and open some wine."

He wasn't sure when she became the kind of girl who was adept in the kitchen and had no less than eight bottles of wine on the rack at the edge of her counter. He wasn't sure when she started draping a tea towel over her shoulder and wiping her hands as she worked, or sang softly to the music that was playing. Well, she had always done that last one, but it somehow felt new, too. She was singing along to a song he liked, but hadn't heard before, and when he looked at her, she didn't blush upon finding out he'd been listening. She just smiled.

She had a confidence about her and a sort of calm diffidence. He wondered if he'd always find new ways to be amazed by her.

"And besides," she said slyly. "He thinks you're hot. It's me who should be worried."

"No," he insisted. "It's really, really not."

She giggled when he walked over and pinned her to the counter, kissing her neck and letting his hands travel over her bare hips beneath the shirt she was wearing.

"Anyway," she started, sticking her behind out to push him away from her, "he wanted me to watch a movie with him, but I said I had to study. Which I do, by the way."

"Hmm." He pulled the cork out of the bottle of wine, then searched through cupboards for glasses. When he turned to ask, she had them in her hands, and he scowled at her before taking them.

"What does _hmm_ mean?" she asked.

"What I had planned for the night doesn't involve books. Or notes. Or anything that isn't just you and me." She tiled her head and looked at him, trying not to smile. "Or clothes."

"Thanks for adding that last bit. I don't think I would have understood otherwise," she giggled. "I suppose studying can wait."

He kissed her cheek as he handed her a glass of wine, and when they sat down to eat the dinner she'd made (which he found delicious, of course), they sat as close to one another as they could without her actually sitting in his lap. He didn't complain once.

They said goodbye two days later, after spending the entire time either talking, making love, or touring the campus with her pointing out her favourite things. He tossed his duffel bag into the back of the new truck Dan had bought him (he figured his absentee father had some making up to do, so he accepted the gift) and Peyton wrapped her arms around him as they stood on the sidewalk.

She didn't cry when he pulled away. She was smiling. Their departures weren't so sad anymore. She knew he was coming back.

And for good, next time.

----

"You two _could_ quit making out long enough to lift boxes, you know," Nathan grumbled, hoisting another cardboard box, one of many with 'books' marked on the top, into Peyton's apartment.

Well, Peyton and Lucas' apartment.

And no, the two of them couldn't stop making out long enough to lift boxes.

Haley sat on the sofa, tending to a three week old James Lucas Scott while Peyton, very distractedly, tried to make room for the bookshelf that was to be set up in her - _their_ - living room. Lucas was just attached to Peyton. Just because he could be. Finally.

"Lucas. Go help," Peyton said sternly, pushing him away from her. She winked when he playfully pouted, then followed Nathan out the door after the new father kissed the foreheads of his wife and baby.

As soon as the men were gone, Peyton sat down on the sofa, fawning over the adorable little baby boy who'd already found a special place in all their hearts.

"I might steal him," Peyton insisted as Haley passed her the baby. "He could pass for ours."

She'd said the words before she could stop herself. _Ours_. Haley didn't say anything, but smiled knowingly and raised a brow when her eyes locked with Peyton's. It was clear Lucas and Peyton weren't breaking up, but little moments like that, when she'd make mention of the future they all knew the two blondes would have, always made Haley smile.

"I don't know how Nathan and I ended up with a blonde baby," Haley laughed, changing the subject because she could tell Peyton wanted her to. "But..."

"He's perfect."

"So perfect," Haley gushed. "I can't believe you and Lucas are finally going to be together!"

"We've _been_ together, Hales," Peyton said with a laugh, letting the baby wrap his little fist around her index finger.

"But you've never really been in the same place at the same time."

"I know. It's kind of crazy," Peyton said, shaking her head. "I kind of can't wait. And we have all summer before school starts and we have to get serious."

"You're going to end up married before you even graduate," Haley said, as though it were just a given.

"What?" Peyton laughed. "We are not."

"You say that now. If he asks, you won't say no."

"Is he...do you know something I don't?" Peyton asked, almost eagerly.

"No," Haley said with a smile. "But you _so_ want to be wearing a ring right now."

"You're....this is coercion! You're putting ideas into my head." Peyton looked at Jamie instead of Haley.

"Oh girly. Those ideas were already there and you know it," Haley insisted seriously.

"I'm...wait. Hang on. I'm not..."

"What's going on in here?" Lucas asked, both he and Nathan carrying as many boxes as their considerable muscles would allow.

"We're just talking about when you two are getting married," Haley stated simply.

"Haley!" Peyton shouted. Nathan laughed and Peyton scowled at him.

Lucas just winked at her and walked over to kiss the crown of her head.

Apparently that whole idea wasn't scary to him either.

----

Nathan was selected second overall in the NBA draft by the Memphis Grizzlies, and he was thrilled. Truthfully, he wouldn't have cared who took him, but it was nice that Memphis wasn't too far from home. Peyton and Lucas both had to work, so couldn't attend the draft, though they'd been invited, but they watched on television as Nathan was selected. Lucas smiled proudly, and Peyton did her best to keep herself from crying.

The summer was great. Lucas worked in a little book store near campus, and Peyton had her job at that little indie label again. Their hours were pretty similar, so unless they were at their respective jobs, they spent nearly every moment together.

Which was exactly what they'd always wanted.

They didn't tire of each other - for the most part - and when they did, Peyton would take over the bedroom while Lucas sat on the sofa, and they'd always cave after no more than an hour of being separated. It was so adorable, it almost made Peyton sick. But they had always been like that. They'd have little arguments and squabbles, of course, but they'd always resolve them quickly. Lucas would make a comment Peyton didn't appreciate, or she'd eat the last of the Frosted Flakes and put the box back in the cupboard.

Once, at the beginning of the school year, he forgot she was cooking dinner and ended up going to a last-minute study group, and they sat in complete silence on opposite ends of the sofa with their arms crossed and looking straight ahead at the wall. She turned to him, and he turned to her, and the moment their eyes locked, he almost smiled. She closed the space between them, and they were kissing within seconds. Lucas would later joke that they always seemed to make good use of that sofa.

They went out one night to watch one of Nathan's games just after Christmas, and found a sports bar they knew would be playing the game between Memphis and New Orleans. They ate very unhealthy pub food and drank too many bottles of Bud, and they did a celebratory shot of Patron, just like Nathan had told them to; just like they always used to do in high school at the after parties when the Ravens won.

To say Lucas and Peyton were drunk when the left the bar may have been an understatement.

"I'm a little tipsy," Peyton said as they walked down the sidewalk back to her apartment.

"You're a lot tipsy."

"You are too!"

"I know," he said, and they both laughed. "It was the tequila."

"And the five - six? - beers," she added uncertainly, having lost count, and he nodded in agreement. "We've never really been drunk together!" she claimed excitedly.

"OK, weird thing to be happy about."

"Shut up," she said, shoving him. He stumbled a little and grabbed her wrist, and they both ended up leaning against a parked SUV, with her chest pressed up against his and his back to the steel of the door of the vehicle.

"You're hot," he noted, squinting as he looked at her.

"Stop."

"Uh uhn," he mumbled. "So, _so_ sexy. I don't know why you like me."

"Because I love you," she said, since it was the first thing that came to her foggy mind. It was kind of perfect.

She tried to move away from him, but he gripped her hips tightly and wouldn't let her step back.

"Kiss me," he demanded.

She smiled before she pressed her lips to his, and he was pulling her hips flush to his. When they parted, he mumbled something about needing to get home as soon as possible, and he was practically pulling her down the sidewalk.

She struggled with her keys, distracted completely by Lucas pressing up against her back, almost pushing her against the door. She braced herself with her hands at one point, letting out a heavy breath before dropping her keys. He caressed her denim-clad leg when he bent down to pick up her key ring, and he was slipping his hands beneath her shirt when she finally got the key in the lock. They were laughing as they stumbled through the doorway to their apartment.

"At least wait until we're inside!" she said through her laughter. He spun her around in his arms and pulled her flush against him.

"No."

"Too late," she mumbled, kissing him as she draped her arms lazily over his shoulders.

She was well aware that she wasn't really making any sense, but he didn't seem to care, and when his tongue pressed against hers, she stopped caring, too.

"Bedroom," he managed.

"Mhmm."

She fumbled with the button of his jeans as they walked, lip-locked, towards their room, and when he pressed her against the wall just outside the door, she let out a moan. She was starting to get a little over heated. She was happy, then, when he pulled her shirt over her head. He kissed along her collar bone as she tugged the cotton of his tee shirt, and she pushed him away just enough to get them moving towards the bed again. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and when they collapsed unceremoniously onto the bed, neither could really care.

He pulled away from her abruptly as they lay there, hips to hips, breathless, and hearts beating rapidly, and the look he gave her almost made her uncomfortable. His eyes were boring into hers in a way she'd never seen them do before, and she thought that was crazy. They'd known each other forever, and he'd never looked at her like that. Not once.

"What?" she asked nervously.

"We should get married," he stated.

"Lucas," she giggled, turning her head to the side. He placed his hand on her cheek, forcing her to look at him.

"Come on. We should."

"You're drunk."

"I love you."

"I love you, too, baby, but...You're talking crazy," she insisted, though she found it increasingly hard to concentrate with certain parts of him pressing against certain parts of her.

"No," he insisted boyishly. "I want you."

"You're on top of me. You have me. I'm yours." _Take me_, she thought.

"Forever?" he asked softly, letting his fingertips dance over her hip.

"Yeah," she whispered, nodding just slightly. She wasn't sure why he was asking. He already knew that.

"So let me make you my wife."

_Wife. _

The word scared her and made her think that she was growing up too fast - reminding her briefly of the night before Keith and Karen's wedding. She wasn't sure she was ready for that. Being a wife. Being one half of a marriage. What would be next? Kids? A house? A minivan? Would everything change between them? Where would they live? What would they do? Would he introduce her as _'my wife, Peyton.'_?

She liked the way that sounded, she realized.

And when her eyes met his again, and he was looking at her so intensely, like she was everything he ever wanted and that making her his wife would make him so ridiculously happy, she wasn't so afraid.

"What do you think?" he asked with a knowing smirk. She should have known he'd be able to read her.

"I think you should kiss me."

"Is that a yes? Or a no, and you're trying to distract me?" he asked, pressing his lower half against hers a little, just to tease her.

"Yes," she said, almost breathless by the weight of him and the weight of the promise they were making. "Yes, baby. It's a yes."

He kissed her, then, and all the emotion and elation he felt poured out of him and out of her and it was all just amazing after that.

And of all the questions that had run through her head, she kept coming back to one.

_Will he still remember this in the morning?_


	14. Lifetime

Somehow, they managed to wake up at the same time. There was a crack in the curtains covering the window next to the bed, and it cast a sliver of bright sunlight over them, rousing them from the peaceful sleep they'd been enjoying.

How, she wasn't sure.

He was practically laying on top of her, half on his stomach with his arm draped over her. She was on her back and his hand was in a very inappropriate position on her chest. There were no pillows beneath them and only a thin sheet covering them, and they were completely naked. Not comfortable. Not comfortable in the least.

She tried to move. She got as fair as lifting her head. The massive, pounding headache she had stopped her moving any further. Lucas felt her stir next to him, and he let out that little mumble/huff/sigh thing like he always did when he didn't want to wake up. He opened one of his eyes and noticed the way they were laying, and where his hand was, and he buried his face in her shoulder. He slid his hand down her side to rest on her stomach and mumbled something that sounded a bit like _good morning_.

"Ow," he said simply.

"Uh huh."

It seemed neither of them wanted to move at all, but when her stomach rumbled, she knew it was inevitable. She turned her head slowly to check the time. 11:30. Thank God it was a Saturday.

"It's late."

"Hmm," he mumbled into the sheets.

"I need food," she told him.

"Eggs."

"For a writer, you're a little too monosyllabic."

He almost laughed, except he knew it'd be painful if he did. Only Peyton would use a word like monosyllabic when she was hungover. And she had to be. If he was, she _had_ to be. He'd had one more beer than her, but she was far smaller and didn't drink often.

"Hmm."

She brushed the hair away from his temple and kissed him before she stood, and he peeked out one eye to see her in all her naked glory before she pulled on one of his button downs. She caught him looking, and she almost felt naked, even after she was dressed, with the pervy way he was peering as he lay on his stomach. But it was more than that...

When she stepped into the hall, it all came back to her.

Were they...

Did they get engaged?

She remembered it all vividly. The sweet, yet somewhat slurred, way he demanded that she marry him. It was what she'd basically always wanted.

It wasn't exactly the proposal she had thought they'd have. He was too much of a romantic for drunken declarations.

But she loved it. It was perfect for their unorthodox, completely backwards and messed up, brilliantly amazing relationship.

She stood at the stove, cracking eggs into a pan while the coffee brewed and the juicer made them fresh orange juice, and she thought about it all. She wanted him to have meant it. She didn't want a ring or him on one knee with rose petals and candles and all that.

She just wanted him and the phrase, "let me make you my wife." Forever and almost pleading and a simple moment of clarity that had her saying yes.

Because of course, she'd say yes.

She was scrambling cheese and bits of crispy bacon and red peppers into the eggs she had cooking, and she heard him walking down the hall. She turned around just in time to see him there in just his boxers, his hair messy and his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Did I...I...proposed, didn't I?" he asked, standing at least eight feet from her.

She bit her bottom lip locked eyes with him - though it was a difficult thing to do when he was standing there, all shirtless and sexy - and she nodded gently.

"And you said yes," he added. She nodded again. "Peyton. I'm sorry. I'm...I'm sorry."

Her face changed to one of hurt, and he hated that. She had no idea what he was saying.

"What?" she asked, her voice far smaller than she intended.

"You don't...I don't have a ring, or...anything. I didn't...That wasn't how I saw that happening."

"Oh," she said before turning back to the stove. She hated that she was about to cry. Before she could blink away the tears, he was standing next to her, looking so guilty it almost made her feel guilty for making him feel guilty.

"I want to marry you. God, Peyton. I do. I love you. You're...You _will_ be my wife," he insisted, resting his hand at the small of her back. "You just deserve so much more than my drunk ass talking gibberish to you at two in the morning."

Her tear fell from her eye, and she took a sharp breath when he kissed it away. She wasn't that if that tear was from sadness or joy. It could have been either.

"I don't care about any of that," she insisted, turning to look at him. "Luke, I just...I do want us to get married. A big, planned out proposal just wouldn't...it wouldn't be _us_."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying...I want to be engaged to you," she admitted softly.

"Really?" he asked.

"You have to ask?"

"I just thought you'd want more...Or you'd be scared...Or...I don't know."

"Lucas," she said, moving to stand in front of him and rest her hands on his hips. "I love you. This...this _us_...it's not temporary. It's _always_. And that means we'll get married. And I want that to be soon."

"You do? Because we don't have to if..."

He was cut off when she kissed him, pressing herself against him and letting him tangle his hands in her hair.

"I want to marry you. If you'll let me," she said with a smile.

He just kissed her. That was answer enough.

_Let_ her? She was all he'd wanted since he was 16. Now that he had her, she'd never get away. He'd make sure of it.

"My head hurts," he said after they'd parted. She laughed softly and pecked his lips one last time.

"Two Advil on the counter next to your juice," she said, turning back to the stove.

He really didn't know how they could go about their morning as though everything was normal and they hadn't just gotten engaged. He was sure it had something to do with the fact that they'd always known that was where they were heading.

"How are you feeling?" he asked after gulping down the pills.

"Like hell," she admitted, and he let out a soft laugh, walking over to her again. "But happy."

"Me too," he said softly, burying his face in her messy hair and kissing her wherever his lips fell. "God, I love you." He brushed her hair aside and started kissing her neck. "We're engaged. We got engaged."

"Why do you sound surprised?" she asked, dishing out their breakfast (or lunch?).

"I told you. That wasn't how I saw that going."

He followed her to the table, carrying two cups of coffee, and sat down next to her. They always sat the same way. He'd sit at the head of the table, and she'd sit at the side, and they'd move their chairs almost as close as they could so their knees touched beneath the table.

"Well, what did you see?" she asked coyly.

"Romance," he answered simply.

"There was romance," she said, her voice taking that tone it always did when she was making an innuendo. She glanced over at him and he had his brow raised. If she kept talking like that, there'd be more of that 'romance'.

"I mean...I always thought..."

"You always thought?" she asked. "How long have you been planning this?"

"I'm not answering that," he said defiantly.

"You aren't allowed to keep secrets from your wife."

"You aren't my wife yet," he said with a smirk.

"It could stay that way," she threatened, though they both knew it was an empty one.

"I don't want to tell you. It's embarrassing."

"Lucas. Come on. Please?"

"Maybe someday," he said seriously, placing his hand over hers. "Not today."

"At least tell me about the proposal you had in mind," she pleaded.

And that much, he could do for her.

"Tree Hill. In your backyard under the stars. I was going to tell you to meet me there and I'd sneak through the fence with a ring in my hand."

Her heart was beating out of her chest, and she almost started crying again. She thought that all sounded perfect. She thought he way they actually got engaged was perfect.

She realized that perfection had everything to do with the fact that it was _them_. It didn't matter _how_.

"And just when were you going to do this?"

"This summer," he said. "But now that feels like a million years away."

"Know what's crazy?" she asked, not waiting for him to answer before continuing. "This feels...normal. Like it's completely natural for us to be engaged and it's...It was always going to happen."

"You and me," he said softly, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "It was always you and me."

"Even if you lost your mind temporarily," she said. She just couldn't help herself.

"Says the girl who had a long term relationship when we were broken up," he threw back, raising his brow.

"OK fine," she conceded. "We both messed up."

"Doesn't matter. You know why?" he asked, weaving his fingers together with hers. "Because I love you."

She just smiled at him and nodded her head.

It really was just that easy.

----

They went home for a weekend after everyone was told about their engagement, and they had a little party. It was just held at the house Nathan and Haley had in Tree Hill, and since Nathan had a few days' break in his schedule, he was able to come play host.

It had been a little over a month since they agreed to get married, and they'd tentatively said that in the summer, they'd have a little ceremony with just close friends and family, and they'd exchange vows and rings, and it'd all be done.

Brooke was having none of that.

"Brooke! I don't want to get married at the cathedral! I want...I dunno. The beach, or my backyard or...Not a church!" Peyton insisted for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Peyton. Don't take this from me!" Brooke whined, stomping her foot, though they were sitting down.

The guys were all outside, shooting around on the court in Nathan and Haley's backyard. Next to the pool. To say Nathan's salary was a lot would be an understatement. His signing bonuses alone bought their house and cars.

From the window, they could see Nathan and Lucas taking on Keith and Chris. Guess who was winning. The NBA player and the MVP of an Ivy League team, or the 45-year-old mechanic and the scrawny musician. It was a bit of a runaway lead for the Scott brothers.

Haley and Karen were in the nursery changing Jamie and chatting about something or another before they'd all get to work on dinner, and so it was just Peyton and Brooke sitting in the living room of that big, bright house.

"It's not your wedding!" Peyton reminded her best friend. "We don't want anything big. And we want to do it this summer."

"You can't," Brooke said firmly.

"Um...Yeah we can," Peyton said, furrowing her brow. There was something weird going on, and she wanted to know what it was. "What's with you?"

"You just...can't get married. Until next summer. At least."

"Brooke."

"Because it takes time to plan and it has to be perfect! It's _you two_. You two need the perfect day," Brooke insisted.

"What's going on?" Peyton asked gently, looking at Brooke.

"I'm...I need you to wait," Brooke said. Peyton noticed her best friend was trying not to cry.

"Brooke..."

"Because...I can't be...I can't be pregnant for your wedding. And...I need time to get my body back," the brunette admitted quietly.

"Are you serious?" Peyton asked, her eyes softening. "You're...You're pregnant?"

"Yeah," Brooke said as both their eyes filled with tears. "And...I'm scared."

"Does Chris know?"

"I told him last week," Brooke said. "He's happy. We both are. I just thought it'd be different. I'd be married and..."

"Honey, sometimes things don't go the way you thought they would," Peyton said, brushing Brooke's hair back from her eyes. "Trust me."

She'd never spoken truer words. If anyone knew how paths got altered along the way, it was Peyton. And Lucas. And anyone who knew Peyton and Lucas.

"I guess," Brooke admitted. "And I love Chris."

"I know you do."

"And...our baby is going to adorable," Brooke insisted, and both girls laughed.

"Yeah. You've got that right," Peyton concurred. "And we'll just find you a really cute maternity bridesmaid dress for my wedding _this summer._"

"Bitch!" Brooke cried, making them both laugh.

They all spent their evening sipping Champagne and eating far too much food and Brooke announced the news of her pregnancy to everyone. The women all cried, and the men offered congratulations to Chris. He just smiled and winked at Brooke when he caught her eye. They explained that they didn't want to get married right away, and that Brooke wouldn't dare steal Lucas and Peyton's thunder, since this wedding was a long time coming.

Practically since birth, Brooke had said.

That night, Lucas and Peyton stayed at her dad's place, since he was away and they wanted just a little privacy. Keith and Karen had almost insisted upon it, actually.

The air was still cool, and so when he took off his sweater, she promptly pulled it over her own head, and he just chuckled and kissed her quickly.

"You tired?" he asked when she was pulling her pajamas from her bag.

"Not really," she insisted, shaking her head.

"Good," he said, reaching for her hand and pulling her towards him. "Come with me."

"Where?"

"Not far," he said with a smirk. She eyed him curiously, and he laughed as he tugged her back towards the stairs and out the back door of her house and into the yard.

He wrapped her into his arms when he noticed her shiver, and when he leaned down to kiss her hair, she burrowed into his embrace a little bit more. She looked up at him and smiled, and he knew exactly what she was going to do. It was what he was hoping she'd do. She lay down on the grass and he loomed over her for a moment.

She wasn't wearing a ring yet, and she insisted it didn't bother her.

That was all about to change.

He lay down on her left side, and she looked at him like he was insane. He was never on her left. Ever. He was always on her right.

When he took her left hand in his, their eyes stayed locked as he slipped the diamond ring onto her finger. Her breathing got shallow, knowing that ring would never leave her hand, and that he was almost giving her the proposal he said he would.

He leaned in and kissed her, and he brushed the tear from her cheek when it fell.

"You remember before I left for school?" he asked. "That night you came to my room freaking out about about me leaving."

"Yeah. We slept in your bed and kissed the next morning," she said with a smile.

"Mhmm," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers. "I think I knew then."

"You loved me?"

"That," he said with a nod. "And that I'd marry you."

"You did not," she scoffed, trying to pull away from him a bit. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her against him again.

"I did too," he said. "You told me you loved me that night. It felt different. And waking up with you was so amazing."

"How'd you know, even then?" she asked, slipping her arm around him to hold him close.

He smirked to himself and closed his eyes and said, "because you're you and I'm me."

She pushed him onto his back and moved to sit on top of him, and he smiled up at her.

"You know, I was pissed at you the first time you said that to me," she said.

"I know."

"You acted like you had some kind of claim to me."

"I did."

She smiled because he was smiling, and because they both knew it was kind of true.

She caught sight of the ring on her finger, and it was the ring she told him she'd always wanted to wear, and she locked eyes with him again as she toyed with the gold band and simple square cut diamond. The ring her father had given her mother.

"Last October," he said, taking her left hand in his.

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"I asked him for it last October," he explained. "After the wedding."

"And he gave it to you?" she teased. He rolled his eyes and she laughed.

"I told him I was going to marry you. He said he knew."

"Well I'm glad you two were so confident about it," she laughed.

"You didn't always want to marry me?" he asked with a smirk.

"Of course," she said softly. "But wanting it isn't the same as knowing it's going to happen."

"I suppose you're right."

"I'm glad you've known all along." She smiled and leaned down to kiss him. He hummed at the sensation of her body pressing against his, and he held her close when she tried to pull away.

"You know what else I love?" he asked in a low tone of voice.

"I hope a lot of things," she said, and he faked a frustrated breath.

"I love that I was your first," he very nearly whispered.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmm," he murmured into a series of kisses. "It's very...very...sexy."

"I think so, too." She intertwined their hands and smiled at him. "I knew _that_ would happen."

"Please," he scoffed. "You were dating Nathan."

"You don't remember that conversation?" she asked with a raised brow. "I told you I wanted it to be you."

"You _knew_ though?"

"You've been almost all my firsts," she said sweetly. "First kiss, first crush, first time, first love." She paused and tried to hide a smile. "First husband."

He squinted at her and she giggled until he flipped them over so she was beneath him with her back on the grass.

"Only husband," he insisted gruffly.

"Only love," she added, making him smile. He kissed her and let a little more of his weight rest upon her. "Remember our first wedding?"

"No?" he said in confusion, because he remembered everything and he had no clue what she was talking about.

"It was right here. I had on a white night gown and you were wearing a Ninja Turtles tee shirt." He laughed and closed his eyes as he shook his head. Kids do such silly things. "I think we should get married right here. With real rings instead of ones made of grass."

"I think that sounds perfect," he agreed. "And maybe a baby that isn't a teddy bear someday."

"Yeah," she whispered, smiling up at him. "Maybe someday not so far away."

"Hmm," he hummed, arching against her just a little bit. "How does that all work, anyway?"

She raised her brow and smirked at him, and she knew what he was saying, but she had to be a little playful. She pushed his chest until he stood and then helped her up.

"Come on, Luke. I'll draw you a diagram," she said teasingly. He shook his head and smirked at her, and she knew what was coming next

She was squealing through the back yard as he chased her, just like they used to do when they were kids.

And just like when she was eight and he was 10, when he caught her, she dared him to kiss her, and he pressed his lips to hers.

He had all his best memories wrapped up in her, and she had all her best memories wrapped up in him. As they lay in bed together in the dark that night, he promised to keep making memories with her as long as she'd let him.

She asked him how forever sounded.


	15. Welcome to the Future

Peyton had a rough day. Her first class was cancelled, but she of course didn't find that out until she'd gotten out of bed at 6:00 to get to school for 8:00, and then she had two hours to kill before her next class started. Lucas was in a lecture, so he couldn't entertain her. She loved him for feeling guilty about that. They both probably knew he didn't have to. During her two hour break, someone managed to bump into her, sending her notebook to the ground. Which was wet. Which soaked her pages and made some of the ink run. So much for those notes.

But after her second class of the day was over, Lucas called to tell her he had a study group for a test that had been sprung on them, and she understood, but they both hated that they had to cancel their dinner reservations at her favourite little restaurant.

When she got home he was in the kitchen, complete with roses, a candlelit table setting, and he was wearing an apron and cooking dinner. She just smiled at him and ran into his arms. It was all so cliché, and she loved everything about it. She loved everything about him. She could hardly remember her bad day.

Of course, he'd 'fibbed' (his word, not hers) when he told her about his study group, but he apologized and said that it sounded like she might need to be pampered. She forgave him, of course, and took the glass of wine he poured for her. She changed into her pajamas - his favourites, since he was doing so much for her - and sat on the sofa, opening the 'care package' that had arrived from Brooke. Basically, it was at least six bridal magazines, some cut outs from other magazines for place settings, flower arrangements and cake designs, and a list of websites for Peyton to peruse. They were all probably well aware that Peyton wouldn't take any of that advice, and their wedding would remain a small event, and Brooke would pout and pretend to be upset about it. But they knew the brunette would be happy no matter what.

"Maybe I won't wear white," Peyton said, idly flipping through one of the magazines, something Lucas had already made fun of her for.

"What? Why?" he asked from the kitchen.

"I'm not a virgin."

"Who is?" he said with a laugh. "That's such an outdated tradition."

"It's not like I'm going to wear black or anything!" she giggled. "Maybe ivory. Or...I don't know."

"You'll look gorgeous in whatever you decide."

"You're all romantic and stuff tonight," she said, and she could have sworn she saw him roll his eyes, even from where she sat. "I like it."

"I'm always romantic," he insisted, tossing a piece of cheese into his mouth before taking the plate to her where she sat. He kissed her temple before setting the plate down on the coffee table, and she wondered what other tricks he had up his sleeve. She knew there had to be more. This was Lucas. He _was_ always romantic.

"Usually, I guess."

"You guess?" he asked incredulously. "Get up."

"No! I'm comfy."

"Peyton, get up," he said with a laugh, extending his hand.

With his left hand right in front of her, and his blue eyes looking at her like that - like he knew so much more than she did - she had to stand and place her palm in his. It was silly, she thought, but no matter how many times they held hands, something they'd been doing basically since she was born, she never tired of the sensation. That feeling she got the first moment her skin touched his. She never wanted that to go away.

He lead her to the door, his eyes never leaving hers, but when he pulled it open, she started protesting.

"Luke, I'm in my pajamas," she said, stopping in her tracks.

"I know," he said eyeing her attire. Those navy blue satin pants and matching camisole got him every time.

"What are you doing?"

"Trust me, babe, OK? It's not like I'm parading you around like this," he said, and she rolled her eyes and followed him out onto the terrace.

"What?" she asked, glancing around.

There was no one else outside, and when Lucas stood behind her with his hands resting on her hips, his chest pressed firmly against her and his breath tickling her ear, she thought it might not matter if they were in a crowded room. He seemed to make her forget about everything that wasn't just him and her.

"We don't have a backyard," he said softly, tilting her chin skyward. "We've got stars, though."

She took a breath and leaned back against him, and she was cold, so he wrapped his arms around her without her even having to ask. He kissed the side of her neck and she had to close her eyes. She didn't know the status of their dinner, but she was wondering if all that could wait. She wanted him.

The beauty of it was that she _had_ him. Always. When he took her left hand in his left hand and wove their fingers together, she was reminded of all of that. Not that she ever really forgot.

"I want you to wear white," he admitted quietly.

"You do?"

"Yeah. You...I always pictured you in white."

She let out a contented sigh and turned in his arms, forgetting about all those stars, and she pressed her lips to his gently.

"So I'll wear white," she said softly, her eyes meeting his.

"You don't...I didn't mean..."

"Lucas," she said, smiling as she looked up at him, "you know how you want to give me everything I want?" He nodded his head gently and she ran her hand through his hair. "I want to give you everything you want, too."

God, he loved that girl.

----

Spring break came, and Peyton traveled to New York for five of her 10 days off to meet with Brooke to start on designing the perfect dress for the wedding. Lucas complained about having time off and Peyton leaving him for almost all of it, but Brooke called him and told him that she was not "flying her pregnant ass to Virginia or anywhere else," and Peyton laughed when he started to look terrified. He spoke to Chris afterward and offered a serious and sincere good luck.

Since Haley was headed to New York with the girls, Lucas decided to head to Memphis to help Nathan with Jamie. Nathan's schedule was hectic and busy, and Haley abhorred even the idea of having a nanny for their son. Since Lucas missed his nephew and Godson terribly, he jumped at the chance to spend time with him.

"Honestly, I don't know how you guys do it," Lucas said after only a day and a half being away from Peyton. "I don't want to sound like a girl, but being apart is awful."

"Yeah," Nathan said seriously. He grabbed them each a beer from the fridge, and Lucas smiled upon seeing the baby monitor clipped to the pocket of Nathan's jeans. "You've done it too, though."

"Not well," Lucas said with a laugh, because he could laugh about it. They all could. "I sucked at that."

"You kind of sucked in general," Nathan said, tapping his bottle against Lucas' to show he was joking. Mostly.

They settled themselves in the large living room of Nathan and Haley's house, and Nathan turned on a game. He had the night off, and due to his hectic schedule, he very rarely actually ever got to sit and take in a ball game.

"I feel bad for Chris," Lucas admitted. "He has a pregnant Brooke, a stressed out Peyton, and Haley with her separation anxiety."

"Poor guy," Nathan said, shaking his head. "I do not envy him."

"Haley's called here 14 times today," Lucas pointed out.

"Dude, your phone has been blowing up since 8:00 a.m. I know Peyton's texting you like, every five minutes."

"She's...planning, or something, and..." He stopped trying to explain when he saw the amused look on Nathan's face. "Whatever."

"How are you doing with all that anyway?"

"All what?" Lucas asked, pausing for a moment as they both watched Lebron make a dunk so pretty they were both left shaking their heads.

"Wedding, marriage," Nathan said, shrugging his shoulder.

"Man, I would have just married her on the spot when we decided to get engaged," Lucas said seriously. "I'm not worried."

"Not scared?"

"No. Not at all. I'm just...ready," Lucas insisted. "You know? Put everything else behind us and be married."

"Well, Luke, you have put everything else behind you," Nathan reminded him. "I don't know how she did it, but..."

"I don't know either." Lucas shook his head in wonder, as he often did when he thought of his past with Peyton and the mistakes they made. _He_ made.

But if he ever mentioned it to her, she'd get mad. Not because he'd hurt her or because they'd wasted time, but because she insisted that it was so far in the past and had nothing to do with their future. He loved her for that, because she meant every word, and she made him believe it, too.

His cell rang in his pocket, and Nathan laughed before taking a sip of his beer, but Lucas made no apologies when he left the room and answered, "Hey, babe."

Besides, Nathan couldn't make any comments when his own wife called just minutes later.

----

"I'm not moving. It's too hot," Brooke complained.

"It's not even April yet," Peyton said with a laugh as she pulled her sweatshirt on over her head. She, Haley and Chris were all wearing layers, while Brooke sat in a pair of thin linen pants and a black tank top.

"You don't know what it's like to have a baby in you!"

"Um, excuse me," Haley laughed. "Yes, I do."

"So tell her to quit bitching!" Brooke whined. "Chris, tell Peyton to stop complaining."

"What?" he asked. "I'm thinking of putting on mittens."

"So no one is on my side?" Brooke asked. "Great."

"Stop pouting," Chris insisted, handing her a glass of ice water and a cherry popsicle, since she was addicted to the things. He leaned down to kiss Brooke quickly, and rest his hand on her stomach. "I've gotta get to the studio. Don't kill anyone. And you girls be nice to my girls."

They'd just found out that week that they were having a little girl. As it turned out, Brooke was two full weeks further along than her doctor originally told her, which explained how much she was showing and how violent her mood swings were. She was already just over four months along, and they all knew she was going to milk that pregnancy for all it was worth. Chris was treating her like a princess, though that was really nothing new. She kind of expected everyone else to treat her like that, too. And they were, to a degree.

But the apartment she and Chris lived in was frigid, and she was still sweating, and so Peyton and Haley understood her desire not to go outside into the sun.

"I want a break from wedding stuff today, alright?" Peyton insisted.

"Uh oh. Overwhelmed?" Haley asked with a raised brow.

"No! No. I just hate all this details stuff," Peyton said, shrugging her shoulder. "Honestly, if I have a dress and he has a suit, and there are a couple rings, I'm all set."

"That's no fun!" Haley proclaimed.

"Says the girl who eloped on like, a days' notice," Brooke said as she laughed and ate her popsicle.

"Hey, when you want it to happen, you want it to just happen already," Haley said in her defense. "Being a pregnant public figure helped speed things along."

"Hey!" Brooke cried.

Sure, she may not have been as famous as _Haley James _and _Nathan Scott,_ but she had her own clothing line, and that made her famous in some circles. Chris was working on his second album, his first with his new label (the same label Haley was on), and the couple was growing in popularity by the day. They just didn't care at all that they were having a baby and they weren't yet married. They didn't care if anyone else cared, either.

Peyton could just laugh at the conversation going on between her two friends.

And for the first time in her life, she actually thought she and Lucas were the ones doing things the normal way. There was no unplanned pregnancy or rushed wedding or anything of the sort. There was love, an engagement, and a wedding. In that order.

She smiled to herself when she thought of a baby coming next. Sometime in the future.

They'd had that conversation ages ago. They were laying in bed and she was reading one of the books he'd had to read for his class, and she heard Lucas sigh, and when she looked at him questioningly, he told her that he honestly didn't know if they'd have a son or a daughter first. She laughed, but moved a little closer, and he blushed when he realized how silly it was for him to mention it, and how randomly he'd brought it up. She asked him if it mattered, and he'd said that of course it didn't. That launched them into a conversation about when they'd have babies and where they'd live and all that.

She couldn't wait to graduate, move back to Tree Hill, buy a house, and start a family with him.

----

Lucas tried to open the door to their apartment one day after work, but he found the chain latched, and the door would only open a crack. He stood, bewildered, for a moment, and then he heard Peyton's voice and some shuffling inside.

"Don't even _think_ about coming in here!"

"How would I?" he asked, laughing a little. "What's going on?"

"Stay out there! No peeking!"

"Peyton, what the hell?"

"I'm...Brooke sent the dress, and...You can't come in yet," she explained.

_Damn_, he wanted to see that dress.

"And all the blinds are closed, so don't even try," she added.

He stopped in his tracks - he'd been walking towards the window - and looked around to see if she was spying on him. It was scary how well she knew him.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked, moving to the door again. It slammed closed again, and he reared back a little in shock.

He wasn't really surprised when she didn't respond. He scratched his head, wondered what he should do or where he should go, and then the door opened a crack and she threw the book he'd been reading out at him. He would have thanked her, but the door was closed again before he could.

So he sat back against the railing of the terrace, opened his book, and waited for her to tell him it was alright to come inside.

Well, that was an hour later. He didn't really realize it, having gotten all wrapped up in his book, only breaking from the page to observe the sympathetic looks from other men as they passed to go to their apartments. Robert, a middle-aged man Lucas had regular conversations with, chuckled and shook his head when Lucas insisted he hadn't done anything wrong. Robert walked away before Lucas could explain that he really hadn't.

He heard the chain slide across and the lock turn, and she pulled the door open and peered out with a sheepish look on her face.

"Sorry. Do you hate me?" she asked as he stood and stretched his arms over his head.

"No," he said softly, walking forward and forcing her to back into the apartment. "What took so long?"

"I was just...I had stuff to do."

"Were you crying?" he asked with concern in his eyes upon seeing the redness in her cheeks.

"A little," she admitted.

"What's wrong?" He took her hand and pulled her towards the sofa, and they sat down together, with him almost as close to her as he could be.

"Nothing's wrong. We're getting married," she said quietly.

"Yeah?" he drew out in confusion. He didn't think it was a case of cold feet. But it scared the hell out of him that he had no clue what it was.

"_Married_. Like..._forever_, forever."

"I know," he said, trying not to laugh. "That's the idea."

"I love the idea," she whispered. "Sorry. I'm just all emotional and stuff. I put the dress on, and it's perfect, and...We're getting married in three weeks."

"Three weeks."

"And then it's forever."

"It was always forever, babe," he said with a smirk, brushing her hair behind her ear.

He was right. She loved that he reminded her of that.

"But if you ever lock me out again, I might reconsider," he teased, laughing when she hit his arm.

"You might deserve it someday," she said, raising her brow at him. "I was just being all girly and...whatever. Hey! Your mom called and said that she and Keith are paying for the honeymoon suite at the hotel for us for the night of the wedding."

"Should I be grossed out?" he asked, smirking at her. He leaned forward and began placing kisses to her neck. "Or happy about having you all to myself in a king sized bed for a night?"

"The latter," she said.

Three weeks. Then he'd have her all to himself _forever_.

----

It was all perfect. Simple. Sweet. So very _them_.

Peyton's backyard was decorated tastefully with white lilies and white roses, and some delicate little blue flowers. Brooke and Haley wore navy blue dresses, and Nathan and Keith wore black suits with ties made of the same fabric as the women's dresses - Brooke had insisted upon it. Lucas was wearing just a black suit, white shirt, and white tie - also the same fabric as Peyton's dress. Brooke Davis loved to keep things uniform.

There were no chairs. There were very few actual 'guests', who stood to watch the short ceremony. Just his mother, her father, Dan, Deb and Charles, Jamie, and Chris. That was all they needed anyway. It was more than they needed, actually.

Everything was kind of a blur after Peyton started towards him in that white dress. It was classic and elegant, made of a thin, billowing fabric with satin detail. There was a thin strip of blue stitching that ran down the back, and she'd later tell him she'd insisted upon it; that it was the same colour as the flecks in his eyes and it was her 'something blue'. He hadn't thought it possible, but he fell in love with her even more.

She teared up, but didn't really cry as they exchanged their vows. It was all inevitable anyway, and as Lucas had told her once, they were practically already married anyway. The ceremony was beautiful formality that neither would trade, but both knew only solidified what they had always had.

Just love.

They didn't ask for gifts. In fact, they'd insisted that no one get them anything.

And so they were really, really surprised when they learned that everyone they knew had all come together, pitched in, and bought them a house.

A _house_. And not just any house. The house at the edge of town that Peyton had loved since she was a little girl. It was big, old and brick, with a wraparound porch, and a backyard bigger than the one she'd grown up with.

Lucas was shell shocked when they were told. They were at the 'reception', which also took place in Peyton's backyard, only it was catered and they had a few tables set up. Peyton started actually crying, amazed by the generosity of the people she loved. Nathan just laughed, hugged her, and told her it was nice to have friends in high places. She laughed through her tears; it was kind of true.

They were tired, but happy and excited and just...content...when they stepped into their hotel room that night. She had her right hand tucked into his left one and her head resting on his shoulder, and she'd blush and smile every time a stranger commented on her dress or her man, or how they looked as a couple.

"So," he said, pulling her against him now that they were finally alone, "the start of forever. You ready for it, Mrs. Scott?"

The way she kissed him definitely constituted as a yes.

----

They moved back to Tree Hill immediately after their last year of school. They each graduated, Peyton with her major in business and a minor in marketing and communications, and Lucas with a masters in literature. He released his novel shortly after they moved back home, and Peyton started her record label at the same time. It had been a crazy, certifiably insane time, with the two of them (not by choice) spending more time apart than together. But they got through it. They knew they would. Then knew they'd get through anything. Lucas' novel wound up being a best seller, and as soon as Haley and Chris' contracts with their label were up, they both signed with Peyton, though she'd never asked them to.

The backyard of Peyton and Lucas' house had become like a sacred place. Birthday parties and anniversaries and get togethers for really no reason were all held there. Sure, Brooke and Chris and Nathan and Haley had bigger houses in town. Lucas and Peyton's had...something else. It was homey and comfortable, and everyone seemed to always gravitate towards it. The women would meet there after long workdays to vent and drink wine, and the men would gather for beers and sporting events.

For Lucas and Peyton, it was just _home_.

Peyton sat back with a cool glass of lemonade in her hand, listening to life happen around her, and smiling at the sound.

Nathan was by the barbecue - it was _his_ job, he'd insist - and Haley was playfully critiquing his skills, as always. Kids ran in the yard, and Nathan's precious chocolate lab, Duke (of course), lay sprawled out on the lawn as if he were watching over the kids. Brooke sat next to Peyton, the ice cubes in her glass clinking against each other and making that wonderful sound each time she took a drink.

"Maddie! Honey, be careful!" Brooke called after seeing her little girl jump off the swings, giggling like little girls do.

Brooke wasn't sure where Madeline Keller got her adventurous, almost reckless, spirit from (probably her father), but she was certain it'd give her a heart attack one day.

And Chris was adventurous. He'd called her from the road when he was on tour, told her there was a plane ticket to Chicago waiting for her at the airport, and that she and Madeline (who was four months old at the time) were going to meet him, and that he and Brooke were getting married. That day.

She said yes.

"Daddy said I could!" the three-year-old shouted back. Chris pretended to be oblivious when Brooke scowled at him, and he walked over to pick up his daughter. He whispered something in her ear and she giggled, then looked back to her mother. "He says you're no fun."

"I _could_ be even _less_ fun," she threatened, raising her brow as if to ask if he wanted to risk it. Chris walked over and kissed her cheek, then whispered for Madeline to do the same, which she did. All was forgiven.

"Maddie!" Jamie called. "Come play!"

He was just that little bit older than her, but the two were near inseparable. Peyton didn't say a word, but she and Lucas always thought those two kids reminded them of themselves. She just hoped that if those kids' future were to lead them towards each other, they'd take a bit of a quicker route.

And at the moment, Peyton looked around and couldn't see her husband anywhere. She was just about to get up and head inside to look for him, when he stepped outside and smiled at her. It was nearly pathetic, really. They'd barely spent any time apart since they got married. She went with him on his book tours, because she was her own boss and she allowed it, and he went with her up and down the east coast to see bands. They just fit together, and they didn't want to be apart, and more importantly, they refused to be. They didn't need to be.

They probably had the strongest marriage out of all of them.

"Someone wants his mommy," Lucas claimed, looking at their 14-month-old son, all curled up on his chest.

Lucas was good at everything. He always had been. To the point of annoyance. But to see him as a father was a sight to behold. The first moment he held William (Lawrence Scott), he was transformed. Peyton couldn't really put her finger on exactly what it was. He'd always been protective. He'd always been compassionate and considerate and so, so sweet.

But to see him with his son was something different entirely. Peyton didn't question it. She just enjoyed it. A lot.

In fact, there was a look she gave him when he was tending to their little boy that let him know that he'd be...appreciated later for his efforts. Though, if you asked him, he'd tell you it wasn't an effort at all.

She was giving him that look now.

"What's wrong?" she asked, standing and taking the boy in her arms.

"He just woke up. I think he missed you," Lucas explained. He leaned in to kiss her cheek, then murmured in her ear. "I think I missed you, too."

He'd just been inside and on the phone Keith and Karen, who were traveling Italy. But she certainly liked that sentiment from him.

"Hey," she said, grabbing the front of his tee shirt when he tried to walk away.

"What?"

"Come here," she said, locking eyes with him.

She kissed him full on the lips and she didn't care that her son was in her arms, or that there were two young kids in the yard and their best friends all around.

She just cared that she loved him, and he was incredible, and she wanted to kiss him.

"Mmm. I should be romantic more often," he said quietly after they'd parted.

He was always romantic. Always.

"When everyone leaves," she promised, winking at him. He took a deep breath and raised his brow and looked around at their guests.

"Can they go now?"

"It's 2:00 in the afternoon!" she said, laughing that laugh that always made William giggle and wrap his fingers up in her hair. She looked down at him and kissed his forehead. "What are you laughing at, little man?"

"Mama!" he squealed when she tickled his belly.

"She's silly," Lucas said in a goofy voice, making the boy laugh even harder.

He met Peyton's eyes again and noticed that everyone else was otherwise occupied. Haley was laughing at something Nathan said, and he had his arm hooked around her waist as she tipped her head back. Chris was being chased by two kids and the dog, and Brooke was rolling her eyes, but smiling and getting out of her chair to 'help' him after he called for it.

"What?" Peyton asked in response to the look she was receiving. She knew that look. He was hatching a plan.

"It's supposed to be clear tonight," he said, and she smiled. "When we get this guy to sleep, we should lay out here for a while. Talk. Maybe kiss."

"Definitely kiss," she said softly, loving the feel of his fingers tucked just beneath her tee shirt at the small of her back. "That sounds perfect. Know what else sounds good?"

"Hmm?" he asked, though he was just a little distracted by the pile-up of bodies in his yard.

Chris and Brooke were pinned down by the kids, acting like those tiny hands tickling them was torture. Nathan and Haley ran over to grab Jamie, then the six of them were all shouting and giggling, and they decided it was boys against girls. Peyton noticed that they could have joined, but it would have thrown off the ratio of boys to girls.

She wanted a daughter.

"Maybe after, we can go inside and have a little fun trying for baby number two," she said, speaking into his ear, sandwiching William between them.

He took a deep breath, nodded his head and kissed her.

They'd just started trying again. He had a good feeling about that night.

Well, he had a good feeling about every night. He had his amazing wife next to him, his son down the hall, his friends and family just across town.

He had a life with the girl who, even at seven years old, knew they'd always have something like forever.

_**-Fin-**_


End file.
